Prentiss's
by Kati Freedman
Summary: Emily Prentiss is used to moving around a lot, and unfortunately, so is her 14-year-old daughter, Violet. But Emily promised that this would be the last move for awhile. Hopefully mother and daughter can forge a life here, and Emily can give Violet the stability she herself never really had.
1. Chapter 1

"Violet, come on! You're gonna be late!"

"Oh my god, no," Violet Prentiss replies dryly. "Not late for my first day at my 17th school."

She enters the kitchen of their new loft and drops her backpack on the floor beside the island, giving her mother an unimpressed look.

Emily Prentiss, in response, tilts her head and gives her daughter the same look.

She doesn't mean to – they just happen to look like clones of each other, except Violet's eyes are lighter, almost a dark green.

"Come on," Emily begs a little. "At least try to have fun today. Try to enjoy your first day."

"Super. Shall I introduce myself as Charlotte Reynolds, Megan Brown, Ella Franc? Or can I be myself this time?"

She's only saying it to get a rise out of her mother. She knows that they no longer have to be Lauren and Charlotte Reynolds, their aliases during their time in France while her mother was working for the CIA.

Emily just gives her a look and continues double-checking her bag, to make sure she has everything.

"Well, on the bright side," Emily says, trying to lift Violet's spirits. "You're officially a sophomore!"

"Magnifique," Violet replies, her tone as monotonous as ever.

"Je t'aime, tu sais," Emily replies, her eyes softening as she looks at her daughter.

"Mmhmm," Violet mumbles, chewing her lip as she drops a can of Diet Coke into her bag.

"Hey," Emily says, tipping Violet's chin up slightly.

She used to do this when Violet was small. Shorter than her, at least. Somewhere along the last few years, Violet grew. She's just as tall as her mother now.

"Last move for a long time," she tells Violet. "I promise."

Violet's eyes glance down. She's not mad at her mother, not really. She's just mad that they had to leave France.

Emily runs a palm over Violet's cheek and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Vous et moi?" Emily asks.

Violet exhales and gives her mother the smile that she knows she needs to see, albeit a very small one.

"Vous et moi," she replies.

* * *

"Call me if you need me," Emily says, as she pulls up in front of Violet's new school.

"Mmhmm," Violet mumbles, leaning into the backseat to get her school bag.

Emily turns her cheek to face her.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you, too," Violet replies, giving her mother a hug.

Emily squeezes her. It's the first real hug she's gotten since they arrived in Virginia a week ago.

"Have a great day, baby," she says.

"You too," Violet responds, getting out of the car.

She knows what her mother is about to say, so she says it at the same time, so they say it in unison.

"And be careful."

Emily smiles, giving Violet a look, but Violet just grins and closes the door.

She watches as Violet approaches the school. There are kids scattered all over the front lawn. Emily knows what they're capable of. The influences they carry with them and threaten to wave in front of her daughter.

Luckily, Violet's smart. Smarter than even she is. That's why she's the youngest in her class every year; why she picks everything up quickly; and why Emily knows she doesn't have to worry about her the way some parents do.

Violet's an old soul and she can be an introvert, and she's never needed a huge clan of friends around. Just a select few she can trust. Kids her age sometimes think she's weird, because she's so quiet and is well travelled and has interests outside of shopping and talking about boys. Sometimes they think she's a snob because she's shy. Luckily Violet doesn't care what other people think about her, but Emily still wants her to have friends and be happy.

The best friend she had in France was an octogenarian who lived downstairs in their apartment building. His name was Luc, and he and Violet spent their days playing chess and listening to classical music. Leave it to her daughter to befriend the oldest person on the block.

Before Violet enters the school she turns her head. She knows her mother will be waiting there, until she disappears inside. She offers her a small smile, which Emily returns, and then she's gone.

Her phone rings as she's driving to Quantico.

Emily rolls her eyes, seeing her mother's name appear on the caller ID.

"Hello, Mother," she says, after tapping her Bluetooth.

"Good morning, Emily," Elizabeth Prentiss replies. "Would it kill you to be a little more genial?"

"Maybe," Emily replies drily.

She can pretty much see her mother's eyes roll from across the Atlantic Ocean.

"How's my darling granddaughter?" Elizabeth asks.

"She's fine," Emily replies. "I just dropped her off."

"Dropped her off? Aren't you going to see her inside?" Elizabeth demands.

"We went to the school a few days ago and filled out all the paperwork," Emily replies, irritated that her mother is insinuating that Emily is doing wrong by Violet. "Even walked around a little and she met some of the teachers."

"Oh," Elizabeth replies. "Well how is she? Poor thing, being shuffled around so."

"Mother, you moved me around five different countries while I was growing up," Emily retorts.

Elizabeth chooses to ignore this.

"Will you have her call me tonight? I sent her a text message but she hasn't replied. She has her phone, doesn't she?"

"Yes, Mother, she has her phone," Emily replies, exhaling. "She's not in a talkative mood right now. I'm sure she'll message you back."

"Well do have her call me," Elizabeth repeats.

"Alright," Emily sighs. "I have to go, I'm driving to work."

"Don't forget to tell Aaron I said hello."

"Yes, Mother. I said I would."

She gets off the phone, closing her eyes slowly as she takes a deep breath. Her mother has a way of making her feel like scraping the skin off of her own face.

* * *

She fidgets with her fingers, picking at the skin around her cuticles. She knows she shouldn't; her nails look awful, but she's nervous. She has her box of belongings with her as she waits for Aaron Hotchner to arrive. She's flawless at coming across as anything but anxious. So when Aaron walks through the door, Emily stands up and puts a polite smile on her face.

"Hello," Aaron says.

He's better looking than she imagined. Dark hair, dark eyes, a runner's build and a stern expression.

"Hi," Emily replies, holding out her hand. "Emily Prentiss."

"Aaron Hotchner," he says. "Prentiss. Are you related to Ambassador Prentiss?"

"Yes, she's my mother," Emily replies.

"Oh," he nods, placing his briefcase beside his desk. "Be sure to tell her I said hello. How is she?"

"She's great," Emily answers.

Aaron nods and a dreaded silence falls upon them.

"So, where should I put my stuff?" Emily ventures.

"I'm sorry?" Aaron frowns, confused.

"My stuff? The chief told me you'd let me know," Emily replies.

"I'm sorry, but I think there's been a mistake," Aaron says.

She waits in his office while he goes to talk to the chief, Erin Strauss.

_Fantastic first day, _she thinks to herself.

Which turns her mind to Violet and how her day is going.

* * *

"Violet Prentiss?" the young English teacher, Max Warner, smiles warmly at her.

Violet nods once from her seat. She got here early enough to get a seat in the front row, far corner. Where she always sits.

"It's so great to have you with us, Violet," Mr. Warner says. "I hear you've spent the last couple of years in France?"

"Yeah," Violet replies, feeling herself blush. She almost replied in French, out of habit.

She hates having to speak in front of the class.

"This must be a huge change," Mr. Warner goes on.

"I've lived here before," Violet answers. "For a couple years, when I was younger."

"You must move around a lot."

"Unfortunately."

"Well, I'm sure you've seen some really awesome stuff, living in Europe and everything."

She nods politely, wishing he'd get on with the class.

"I know everyone," he looks meaningfully at the class, "will make sure you feel welcome here at Westminster."

"Thanks," she gives a small smile and shifts a little in her chair.

Mercifully, Mr. Warner gets on with the lesson. It's November, so Violet hasn't missed much school. Mr. Warner sets a copy of _The Catcher in the Rye _on her desk. Violet barely suppresses a curled lip.

"Don't worry," the guy across from her leans over. "You haven't missed anything. We're still on the first chapter."

The boy smiles kindly and Violet can't help but smile back. His shiny brown hair is perfectly styled, and he looks like he just stepped away from a photo shoot.

"I'm Matthew," the boy says quietly, resting his chin in his palm. "So, France, huh? I bet the guys over there are fucking hot."

Violet grins.

"Oh, oui," she replies, a little sarcastic. "Some, at least."

Matthew laughs.

"I'm afraid to ask where you got those sickening boots from," he goes on. "If you say France, I might die."

"Well before you tie the noose, I'm sure you can get them here. Or online," Violet replies. "They're Steve Madden."

"I fucking love them," Matthew says. "Your style is sick."

"Oh," Violet says, glancing down at her outfit. Black skinnies, plain t-shirt, scarf, cardigan. She felt pretty plain when she left the house. "Thank you."

Mr. Warner, still talking, walks in front of them and places his hand on top of Matthew's desk; a quiet plea for them to shut up and pay attention.

Matthew mimics grabbing onto Mr. Warner's hand flirtatiously and Violet bites her lip to stop herself from laughing, and opens up the binder she already has marked for English.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sorry for the confusion," Aaron says, as he and Emily leave his office.

"It's fine," Emily assures him again. "I'm sure I'd be confused, too, if a new employee was sprung on me without my knowing."

Aaron smiles politely.

_So much for a good start, _Emily thinks to herself.

This isn't exactly how she wanted her first day to go, with Aaron disappearing into the Chief's office to discuss Emily's presence. But he'd be nice enough since returning to his own office, and now he was showing her to her own desk.

Four people are standing around one of the desks talking.

"Guys, this is Emily Prentiss," Aaron says to the group.

They smile.

"Agent Prentiss, meet Jennifer Jareau, or JJ, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, and Derek Morgan," Aaron introduces.

She shakes each hand in turn.

"It's nice to meet you guys," Emily smiles.

"Welcome aboard," Spencer smiles.

Emily already likes his nerdy vibe.

"Thanks, I'm really excited to get started," Emily replies.

"I've gotta run, but I'll introduce you to Gideon in a little while," Aaron tells her.

Emily nods and he leaves.

"Come on, I'll show you where the coffee is," Penelope smiles warmly.

* * *

Back at the group 10 minutes later, Derek turns his attention to Emily, abandoning Spencer's explanation of something physics related.

"So, Emily, where were you before this?"

"France," she replies. "And Italy. And a couple of years here, in New York."

"Sounds like you've travelled," Derek grins.

"Yeah, I'm trying to stop, actually," she replies.

"Really? I'd love to get to see the world like that," Penelope says.

"No, it's great to see it, definitely," Emily nods. "I guess I'd just like some stability for a change. I grew up living all over the place and I don't want my daughter to have to do the same thing."

"Oh, you have a daughter," Penelope smiles brightly. "How old?"

"She'll be 15 in February," Emily replies.

"Wow," JJ raises her brow as the rest of the team gives Emily a similar look. "You look pretty amazing for having a teenager."

Emily chuckles shyly. "Good genes, I guess," she replies quietly, as JJ's phone goes off.

Before Penelope can ask what Emily's daughter's name is, JJ looks up.

"Duty calls, guys," she tells them.

After JJ's announcement, Penelope hurried off to her office, and Derek and Reid, as he likes to be called, lead her to the room where they meet.

Inside is a man Emily hasn't met yet.

"Agent Prentiss," Aaron says formally. "This is Jason Gideon."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Emily shakes his hand.

He nods politely but doesn't say much. It just makes Emily feel even more uncomfortable, knowing that both of her superiors didn't know of her starting today, and apparently aren't very pleased about it.

There's no time to dwell on it, though, because JJ is already clicking on a large computer screen with photos and information on it.

"This is Brianne Johnson," JJ begins. "She was found last night in her car. She had been beaten, raped, and strangled to death."

Graphic images fill the screen.

"Boston PD say this is the fifth murder in as many months," JJ goes on. "All victims have been young, physically fit, and all of them were killed the exact same way. Found in their cars in vacant areas."

"Was anything taken from them, or left at the scene?" Derek asks.

"Just jewelry," JJ replies. "But it's inconsistent. Three of the girls had a ring taken from them, and the other two had their necklaces taken."

"Seems like a lot of brutal work, just for a mugging," Spencer mumbles, reading the file in front of him.

"Also, a young girl went missing last night," JJ informs them. "She's 17 years old, said she was going to a friend's house, but never showed up. No one's heard from her since and her phone is turned off."

"Alright," Aaron says, his usual stern expression on his face. "Wheels up in 20."

* * *

"Hey, baby, how's your day going?" Emily asks, sitting near the back of the private jet.

"Not bad, actually," Violet replies, sounding less morose than she did this morning. "How's yours?"

"On my way to Boston," Emily replies.

"What's the case?" Violet asks.

She's always been endlessly interested in Emily's work.

"Five murders in five months," Emily replies. "But we'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Yeah," Violet says. "I have to get going, anyway. Chem class."

"Have you made any friends?" Emily asks, hiding how hopeful she feels.

"Kind of," Violet replies, and Emily can't help but smile. "His name's Matthew. He's hilarious. You'd like him."

"Matthew, hey?" Emily says, sounding a little protective.

"Yeah, we actually have a lot in common. We both love books and clothes, and boys," Violet responds, knowing what her mother is getting at.

"Well you'll have to invite him over," Emily answers.

It's muffled for a second and Emily hears a sound she hasn't heard too often lately — Violet laughing.

"I gotta go, Mom," she says into the phone.

"Okay, honey. I love you," Emily tells her. "I'll call you later."

"Love you," Violet replies.

Emily hangs up and wanders down the aisle towards where the others are seated.

Gideon and Reid are in the middle of a game of chess.

"So, your daughter," JJ says, smiling at Emily from across the table. "What's her name?"

"Violet," Emily replies.

She usually doesn't share much of her personal life with people, especially when they've just met. But she gets the feeling that this group of people are alright, and she doesn't want to be rude to JJ.

"Aw, that's beautiful," JJ says.

"For the colour or for the flower?" Derek asks.

"Maybe a little of both," Emily shrugs. "And I didn't want her to have a common name and have to go by her last initial."

"Violet's only come back into popularity in the last few years," Reid announces, while focusing on the chess board. "It's an old French name, typically used as violette, which is a diminutive form of viole. That's where the word violet comes from — the Latin word viola. It was common in the Middle Ages but really gained popularity in the middle of the 19th century."

He stops to glance at Emily.

"It's really quite beautiful," he tells her.

Everyone seems to be used to Reid but Emily is surprised by this spout of information.

"Kid has an eidetic memory," Derek informs her. "And an IQ of 300 or something."

"One hundred and eighty-seven," Reid corrects him. "An IQ of 300 is literally impossible."

"Alright, brainiac," Derek laughs. Suffice to say that you're a genius."

"Well, technically," Reid replies, frowning in concentration.

"Anybody with an IQ over 160 is considered a genius, aren't they?" Emily asks, even though she knows the answer.

She went through all of this information when Violet was five and being tested for giftedness.

"Yes, that's correct," Reid nods. "Although anybody over 130 is considered to be moderately gifted."

"What's yours?" Derek teases Emily, nudging her.

"I don't even remember," Emily frowns, trying to remember the last time she was tested.

"Must be pretty high," JJ says. "You graduated from Yale, right?"

"Yeah," Emily answers. "How'd you know?"

"Your necklace," JJ replies.

Emily immediately touches the necklace near her collarbone.

"Does Violet take after you?" Derek asks.

Emily lets her brow raise and fall. "In more ways than she likes to acknowledge," she answers.

"She's a genius, too?"

"Pretty much, but she'll kill me if I go around telling everyone that," Emily replies.

"We can keep a secret," JJ winks.

"Does she play chess?" Reid asks, looking up from the chess board.

"Actually, yes," Emily nods. "She loves it."

"That's great," Reid says, looking back at the board. "It's hard to find a good component."

"Well I think you've got a pretty good one here," Emily nods towards the board.

"We're descending," JJ announces.

"I hate not finishing a game," Reid mumbles, as they prepare to land.

"Don't worry," Emily replies, putting on her seatbelt. "He would have had you in three."

Reid freezes and looks at the board, then to the grinning face of Jason Gideon, before he turns to look back at Emily who is now busy with her phone.

* * *

"Someone called in an hour ago," Detective Barnes, Boston PD, informs the group as he leads them to their work room. "Said the car had been sitting there all day, still running."

He hands JJ a folder which she opens up to find photographs of the crime scene.

"Same MO?" JJ asks.

"Identical," Barnes nods. "Even took the girl's bracelet that she was wearing, but left behind a white gold ring."

"What is with this guy?" Derek murmurs, looking at the pictures.

"Jason, why don't you and Prentiss and Morgan go to the crime scene," Hotchner orders. "Reid and I will stay here and go over the info."

"So she must have been here all day," Derek says, walking around the perimeter of the car. "M.E. says her body hasn't been moved in at least 12 hours."

"So why didn't someone call it in sooner?" Prentiss asks.

"Kids come out here all the time," Barnes replies. "Park their cars, get the windows foggy, if you know what I mean. No one would think anything of a car parked here."

Emily looks around. The parking area is right beside a park, but not a swings and slides park. Just an open area for people to walk their dogs or ride their bikes.

"Who called it in?" she asks.

Barnes points towards a woman speaking to a couple of police officers.

She and Derek head over.

"I just thought it was stupid," the woman shrugs. "I mean, to leave a car running that long. I drove past on my way to work, at 8:00 this morning. When I was driving home at 2:00, it was still there, ignition still on. Just seemed weird."

"Did you see anyone else around?" Derek asks.

"No," she shakes her head. "Just the car. I parked right over there and walked over. That's when I saw her…her face."

Since she was strangled, the girl's eyes were still open and blood vessels had popped in them, as well as on her face. It obviously was a hard thing for the woman to see.

"We've already got her information," Barnes tells them. "Her footprints are these right here."

He points at the ground and they follow the prints over to the car where they stop abruptly, and then the woman obviously backed up a few steps before turning around and rushing back to her car.

The other prints are ruined. Whoever it was must have kicked at them to muss them up.

"There's gotta be at least one decent print here," Derek says, kneeling in the dirt.

"I hope so," Emily murmurs. "He's not leaving us much else to go by."


	3. Chapter 3

Violet's used to coming home to an empty house. When she was younger, Emily always had a nanny or someone to be around when she couldn't. But today Violet walks in the door to the still-new loft and finds it empty. She likes being alone, actually. It gives her time to read, do homework, sing loudly and terribly without worry.

"Hey, Sergio," she murmurs, setting down her bag and bending down to pick up the sleek black cat.

Her mother gave her to Violet for her 10th birthday. She'd asked for a puppy, but her mother said dogs needed more attention. A cat was more logical.

"How was your first day alone in the new digs?" Violet pets the cat. Sergio purrs a reply.

Her phone starts to vibrate.

"Hi Grandma," she says, answering the call.

"Well, there you are," Elizabeth Prentiss replies. "I was starting to worry."

"Sorry. First day of school," Violet explains, taking a bunch of grapes from the fridge.

"How was it, darling? Did you make some friends?"

"Yeah, actually. One."

"Well, tell me about them."

"Um, his name's Matthew. He's in all of my classes except gym. He's super smart, and he, too, doesn't bite the J.D. Salinger bait."

Her grandmother laughs.

"Well you've found a friend for life, then," she teases.

Violet read _The Catcher in the Rye_ when she was 12 and despised every page of it, a feeling that not many people share.

"Yeah," she laughs softly. "One in a million."

"And what else does Matthew like? My granddaughter, perhaps?"

"He likes boys, Grandma," Violet replies, knowing.

Sometimes her mother is so much like her grandmother, Emily would kill her if she ever said it to her face.

"Oh," Elizabeth replies, surprised. "Well he obviously has great taste in friends, too."

Violet grins, shaking her head.

"I'd love to meet him when I come visit," Elizabeth goes on.

"When are you coming?"

"Well I was hoping to make it for Thanksgiving in a few weeks, but I think Christmas is more likely."

"Good," Violet sighs. "At least something will feel homey around here."

"Oh, sweetheart. Don't you like the loft? I gave the decorator specific instructions."

"No, it's amazing, Grandma. Really. I love it," Violet assures her. "I just mean…I dunno. We've never lived in one place long enough for me to celebrate more than three Christmases. It's always different people, but I always know you'll be here."

"Oh, honey. I wouldn't miss it."

Violet smiles, making her way up the stairs.

"Your mother isn't home yet, I imagine?"

"No. Boston."

"I trust you and she went over the important matters?"

She means the hidden gun in the house; the go bags in the front closet with passports, money, and cell phones.

"Yeah," Violet replies.

She's also a black belt in karate, and she and her mother have taken kickboxing classes since Violet was eight.

"Good," Elizabeth says. "It comforts your old grandma to know you're prepared."

"Old," Violet scoffs. "Yeah right, Grandma."

Elizabeth Prentiss doesn't look her age, sound her age, or act her age. Retirement is probably never in her future. She will never get tired.

"Well, sweetheart, I have to go," Elizabeth tells her. "I'm being pestered by my assistant here."

"Okay. I'll talk to you soon."

"You make sure the door is locked and be careful."

"I will, Grandma."

"I love you, honey."

"Love you, too," Violet replies.

She hangs up and jogs back downstairs to where her school bag is. She carries it upstairs to her room and sits down at her desk.

Her phone buzzes again. Her mother. Still in Boston, but making progress.

Violet sends a response and starts on her homework.

* * *

The case was easier than Emily thought it would be. Her first case as a member of the BAU, and she knocked it outta the park.

She spent Monday morning with Barnes, Derek, and Gideon, examining the crime scene and the victim.

In the afternoon she was back at the police station, working with the team. It was Emily who picked up on the fact that each victim's stolen piece of jewelry contained a specific stone in it — a birthstone, to be exact. The killer had already gotten his garnet, amethyst, aquamarine, diamond, and emerald. There was no way the team was going to let him get his pearl.

It was Reid who pieced together most of the rest, figuring out that a local jeweller had died five months ago, bequeathing his jewelry store to his only child, a son. With Gideon's help, they found the guy. He was booked and in a cell by midnight.

"Nice work today, Prentiss," Aaron says to her, as the team files off the jet.

"Thank you, sir," Emily nods.

"I'm sorry if I was a little rude today," he goes on.

"It's fine, sir. Really. I understand. But I do hope you know that no strings were pulled to get me this job," Emily informs him. "I hate politics, and nepotism fits into that category. I would never use my mother to boost me into a position."

Aaron listens and then nods. He has to give it Emily, she's proving herself to be a great team member.

"I think you're going to fit in well," he replies, almost smiling.

After he walks away, JJ falls into step beside her.

"That's the closet thing to a smile you'll ever get from him," she tells Emily.

"I'm not surprised," Emily replies.

"He's right, though," JJ grins. "I think you're a great addition."

"Thanks, JJ," Emily replies gratefully.

"So, hey, I know you've gotta get home to your girl, but the team's going for drinks on Friday. Not to a bar or anything. Just a pub-type place. You can bring Violet. We'd love to meet her. You in?"

"Sure," Emily replies after a second. She nods once. "Drinks sounds great."

* * *

When she gets home, Emily is careful to be quiet. Violet can be a light sleeper when she's anxious, and Emily knows she's been on edge since arriving in the States again.

"Hey, buddy," she says quietly, bending down to pick up Sergio. "You take care of our baby girl today?"

The cat's response is a light mew.

"Good boy," Emily murmurs, giving him a squeeze and then setting him down.

She pads up the stairs. She sees that Violet's light is still on so she wanders over.

When she sees Violet's empty, messed-up bed, her heart stutters in her chest.

_No, _Emily thinks to herself, her breath stuck in her lungs.

Quickly she races over to her own bedroom.

When she sees Violet in her bed with a book beside her, her place saved with her thumb, Emily has to smile. She could never count the number of times she's walked in to find Violet passed out with a book. She reads herself to sleep more often than not.

She should have known that her daughter would choose to sleep in her bed, rather than alone. She's spent every other night there this entire week.

Emily carefully moves the textbooks and binders off the bed, and sets the book on the night table, being sure to bookmark the page.

She gently lifts Violet's legs and covers her with the blanket. When she gets closer to Violet's head, her eyes barely open.

"Hey, baby," Emily whispers, stroking the hair from Violet's forehead.

"Did you get him?" Violet asks, clearly out of it.

"Yeah, honey. We got him," Emily replies.

With that, Violet rolls over and drifts back into sleep.

Emily presses a kiss onto her cheek and then clicks off the lamp on that side of the bed.

She knows what Violet means about the loft not feeling homey yet, but she also has nothing to complain about. She's grown up moving frequently. It's the fact that Violet hates it that made Emily take this job. It's less travel than her CIA gig, and Violet's happiness is what's most important.

It's why she knows she'll come to feel at home here.

Her mother found the loft for them - a spacious, modern place in the nice area of town. She'd even sent over decorators to paint and prepare the place, making sure that Violet's room was painted purple, that it was close to a park and some cafes and shops. She even picked out some stuff for Emily that she ended up loving. She was surprised to find out that her mother knew her so well.

After washing up, she crawls into bed beside Violet, who is already back asleep and radiating heat, like she always does. Emily has always worn pyjamas to bed, since she always gets cold and always has two blankets on her bed.

Violet will sleep in shorts and a tank top and kick the blankets away. She's always warm to the touch; has been since she was a baby.

Emily takes the opportunity to snuggle closer to her daughter.

She hates how she can miss her so much. It's more so lately, since Violet's been angry with her.

Absent-mindedly, she begins to sing the song she used to sing to Violet as a baby. A song that's older than both of them, but one day got stuck in Emily's head while she was trying to calm Violet down.

It turns out that Emily's grandmother, Edie, used to sing it to her, as a baby.

Her words are so quiet they're almost a whisper, but her voice is clear and sweet and melodic.

_Come, Josephine, in my flying machine_

_Going up, she goes, up, she goes_

_Balance yourself like a bird on a beam_

_In the air, she goes, there she goes…_


	4. Chapter 4

"Miss Prentiss," Mr. Warner says, as Violet's leaving class the next morning.

Violet pauses and walks over to his desk.

"I noticed that you haven't yet cracked the spine on your copy of _The Catcher in the Rye_," he goes on.

"Mmm, no. I haven't," Violet replies.

"May I ask why?"

"Well," Violet breathes, exhaling. "To be honest, I think my time could be better spent. I read that crap when I was 12 and those are two solid summer afternoons that I will never get back."

Max Warner has to chuckle.

"You've already read it," he replies, nodding slowly.

"Unfortunately," Violet says.

"Well. What do you think we can do about this? I can't have you spend every English class examining the quad and looking bored."

"What's next on the reading list?" Violet suggests.

"Well," Mr. Warner begins, pulling out a piece of paper. "After the first book, I give the students a choice between two. You can either read _Uncle Tom's Cabin_…"

He looks at her expectantly. She almost grimaces.

"Which you already have," Mr. Warner catches on. "Or you can read — actually. Listen. Why don't you read this."

He digs in his desk and holds out a tattered book.

_If I Stay, _Violet reads to herself.

She glances back at her teacher.

"Read it. Tell me what you thought about it."

"An essay," Violet guesses.

"Mmm, more like a book review. Explain to me the themes and ideas, but feel free to add all the spoilers. You know all the typical questions that essays demand. Answer them, and then add your own opinions."

"Okay," Violet nods, eager to start the book.

"You read a lot, hey?"

Violet shrugs shyly. "I guess. What's a lot?"

"Enough for me to have to make you your own reading list," he replies, rolling his eyes as he teases her.

She laughs lightly.

"Thanks," she says, holding up the book slightly.

"Don't thank me yet," he replies, as she heads for the door. "Although I doubt you'll find it to be anything close to Salinger."

* * *

"Really?" Emily smiles wide-eyed at her daughter.

Violet nods, blushing slightly.

"Yeah, I mean, I've already read the first few books. So he just lent me this one to read. I have to write an essay, pretty much, afterwards."

"Baby, that's amazing!" Emily cries, abandoning the container of pad thai she was in the middle of opening.

She grabs Violet and hugs her tightly.

"My lil' genius," she grins, tickling at Violet.

Violet shrieks and jumps away, but her mother just laughs and goes back to unpacking dinner.

"What about you," Violet asks, sitting on a stool at the island. "How was your day?"

"Sickeningly domestic," Emily makes a face. "I grocery shopped, cleaned this place up, and made dinner."

Violet raises an eyebrow at her mother.

"Okay, fine, I _ordered _dinner," Emily rolls her eyes.

Violet grins, accepting the plate her mother offers.

"So, listen," Emily says, sitting down beside her. "The team's going out on Friday night. They invited us to go, too."

Violet gives her mother a look.

"This isn't France," she replies. "I can't just walk into bars here."

"It's not a bar, per se," Emily replies. "It's just a pub. You can be in there."

"I don't know," Violet scrunches up her nose.

"Why not? They want to meet you, honey."

"Well Matthew asked if I wanted to hang out on Friday," Violet shrugs. "Get some pizza or something."

"Oh," Emily replies, pleasantly surprised. "Well why doesn't he come here first? I can't let you go around town with a kid I've never met."

"He's an honours student in all of my AP classes with a killer fashion sense and a biting sense of humour, and he has zero interest in getting in my pants," Violet replies. "He's your dream come true."

Emily weighs this information and nods approvingly.

"That _does _sound fantastic," she grins at her daughter.

"Oh my god, yay," Violet replies, mimicking a teenage stereotype.

"So you'll have him over after school first," Emily repeats.

"Yes, Mother," Violet replies, twirling noodles around her fork.

"Hey," Emily frowns, jamming her fork against Violet's so the noodles unwind. "Don't make me sound like such a nuisance."

Violet raises her brow, as if to insinuate that that's exactly what her mother is.

Offended, Emily's mouth opens and she stares at Violet.

"Violet Emily-Rose," she starts, but Violet just starts to laugh in her face and Emily can't help but echo her.

* * *

The rest of the week has Emily busy with work closer to home. Several murders in Washington DC, all with the same MO, except for the fact that the victims have no similarities. It takes the team all of Wednesday and Thursday, and half of Friday to piece together the tiny pieces of this puzzle. What they're left with is a devastating tale of heartbreak, and the toll it took on a fragile man who then went after people who closely resembled each person in the man's own situation who hurt him.

It leaves Emily and the team exhausted and ready for their night out.

When they get back to Quantico, Emily is surprised to find Erin Strauss standing near her desk, and she's talking to Violet.

Immediately Emily assumes the worst.

"Violet," she says, hurrying over. "Is everything okay?"

She reaches her daughter and barely glances at Chief Strauss. After what Erin did to get Emily working here, Emily doesn't trust her. She doesn't know what her agenda is yet.

"Yeah, I just lost my house key," Violet explains shyly.

The team is standing several steps behind her mother, and Violet is always shy at first.

"Oh," Emily breathes, grateful. "We'll get you some more cut on the way home."

"Hey, Violet," JJ smiles, stepping forward. "I'm JJ. I work with your mom."

"Hey," Violet smiles, blushing slightly. She shakes JJ's hand.

"This is Spencer, and Derek," JJ introduces. "And—"

"I'm coming!"

Penelope Garcia comes walking quickly from a hallway.

"I saw little Prentiss on the cameras and I have to meet her!"

Violet blushes more, but she immediately likes Penelope.

"Oh my goodness, you look exactly like your mom!" Penelope cries.

"Careful," Emily warns. "If you wanna make friends, that's not the way."

Violet tilts her head slightly at her mother.

"Listen, honey, if you ever need anything, you call me. I don't travel on the fancy jet with them all the time. I spend a lot of time here, in my little lair."

"Thanks," Violet smiles.

"Your mom tells me you play chess," Reid says, stepping forward.

"Sometimes," Violet nods.

"She also says you're a genius, smarter even than her," Derek supplies.

"She…embellishes," Violet replies, glancing at her mother, who is beaming proudly.

"I would never," Emily replies, eyes wide.

"You have time for a game?" Reid asks.

Violet chews her lip, glancing at her mother.

"Sure," Emily nods encouragingly. "Give him hell, baby."

"She's beautiful," Penelope says, smiling widely as she, Emily, and JJ stand near the coffee area, watching Violet and Reid play chess.

"I know," Emily replies. "It's sickening."

JJ and Penelope laugh, and JJ elbows Emily playfully.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when she decides she wants to date, I'm screwed," Emily explains.

"Ohhh," JJ and Penelope realize, nodding in unison.

"I never thought of that," JJ murmurs. "On that note, I hope I have all boys."

"Really?" Penelope smiles wistfully. "I want two of each."

"Four?" Emily raises her brow. "Honey, I can barely handle one, somedays."

"How can you even say that? Look at her. She's gorgeous and sweet and she's a genius who plays chess," Penelope replies, holding a hand out towards Violet.

"She's fiery and stubborn and yes, she's a genius, which means she's smarter than me, and that can be terrifying. And I'm scared to death of screwing her up," Emily says.

She clamps her mouth shut. She's not sure she's ever said that out loud to anyone. She's usually not so open with feelings, but Penelope and JJ make it easy. Which, for some reason, makes Emily a little _un_easy.

"What? Don't be silly," JJ waves a hand dismissively. "You spent your childhood travelling around the world, and look at you. Well-adjusted, smart, strong. She's already so much like you. I've only known you for five days and I can see that."

"That's true," Penelope nods, sipping her coffee.

"I also remember how much I hated that travelling," Emily replies. "Man, did I hate my mother when I was Violet's age."

"Well she doesn't," JJ shrugs.

"Today," Emily replies.

"Seriously, I've seen some daughters and their mothers," Penelope says. "You honestly hit a jackpot with that one."

Emily smiles at the comment, and the smile widens as she watches Reid give Violet an incredulous look, unable to believe her skill.

"Did she just beat Reid?" JJ asks, surprised.

"No, but she might," Emily replies, and they wander down to where the match is going on.

* * *

"Careful," Gideon says gently, as Violet moves her hand towards a pawn.

It causes Violet to pause and rethink her move.

This is their second match. Reid won the first, but barely. Hotchner and Gideon had been leaving when Reid suggested round two, causing Gideon to stay and watch.

"I know what you're thinking, but think beyond that step," Gideon guides Violet. "Get inside _his _head."

Violet chews her lip and glances at Reid. His brown eyes don't give much away, but Violet is intuitive.

Violet studies the board again, and a moment later reaches out to move her queen. Two steps later and Spencer would have had her in check.

"Good," Gideon smiles, impressed with Violet.

Emily's practically glowing with pride as she sits beside JJ on Derek's desk.

"Who knew Gideon would be so good with kids?" Derek whispers to them.

"Are you kidding? He's so patient and smart," Penelope replies. "He gives off a sort of grandpa vibe."

"Grandpa," Derek makes a face.

Penelope hushes him.

"He'll hear you!"

"He does hear you," Gideon says out loud, not turning his gaze to them. "He's not offended."

Derek presses his lips together, feeling like an idiot.

"There are too many moves on his side," Violet sighs, reaching a thumb up to chew on the nail.

"You've got this," Gideon says quietly. "Just think."

Violet exhales, chewing on her lip.

This is why she's so good at chess — she's stubborn and she loves a challenge.

She puts herself in Reid's shoes; imagines herself playing the pieces.

She spots a move she had glanced over earlier. It puts Spencer in check.

With her mother's poker face, she reaches over and moves her piece. When she sees the surprise in Spencer's face, so wants to smile hugely. Instead, she continues to chew her lip.

"If we don't go eat after this, I'm going to come unglued," JJ whispers to Penelope and Emily.

"Don't worry," Emily laughs. "Last game."

Two moves later, Violet doesn't suppress a satisfied grin as she reaches over and moves her queen.

"Checkmate," she says.

It's met with cheers from everyone else, and a proud smile from Gideon.

"Got yourself a smart girl there, Prentiss," he says to Emily.

"Yes, sir, I do," Emily nods.

Gideon reaches over and squeezes Violet's shoulder.

"You come by my office next week," he says. "We'll play a few."

"Careful, sir," Emily warns. "She'll hold you to that. She's always looking for a worthy opponent."

"Then let's hope I am one," Gideon grins, and then he's gone.

Spencer is still staring at the chess pieces.

"Come on, kid," Derek nudges him. "Don't sweat it."

"I'm not upset," Reid immediately replies. "I'm curious. You have a unique style, Violet. Where did you learn?"

"An old man in Hyde Park, when I was six."

Spencer nods slowly, eyeing the board, until finally he stands up and holds out his hand.

"Good game," he tells Violet.

"Thanks," Violet smiles. "You too."

"Thanks," Reid nods. "We'll play again sometime?"

"Absolutely," Violet nods.

* * *

The whole ride home Violet smiles.

Emily knew she was worried about finding a friend to play chess with. The internet versions just aren't the same.

"Told you that you'd like them," Emily says.

Violet just grins her response.


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, why don't you guys come over here?" Emily says into the phone, as she and Violet walk in the door.

"Yeah?" JJ asks.

"Absolutely," Emily replies.

She watches Violet jog up the stairs and lowers her voice a little.

"Plus, it'll give me a chance to see what this Matthew kid is about."

"What he's about?" JJ laughs. "From what you've said, I think he's about being a teenager and has good taste in friends."

"Yeah," Emily sighs. "I just like to know who she's spending her time with."

"I hear ya," JJ agrees. "I'd do the same thing. Okay, so I'll let the rest of the team know and we'll be over around…8:00?"

"Eight sounds perfect," Emily replies.

After she hangs up she looks around her kitchen.

"Except I have nothing to serve them," she mumbles to herself. "Vi!"

"Yeah?" comes the call from upstairs.

"You wanna come out with me? The team's gonna come over here instead."

"Why?" Violet appears at the top of the stairs.

"The pub they always go to is closed for renos. I have to go get some wine and food."

"I still have to shower and everything," Violet replies.

"Alright, baby, I won't be long."

* * *

The phone rings about 10 minutes after Emily leaves. The caller ID says the caller is a blocked number, so Violet ignores it, exactly like her mother taught her to.

She jumps in the shower and when she gets out, she can hear her mother singing down in the kitchen.

Violet's sure that hardly anyone knows that her mother can sing. It's not like Emily goes around belting out songs. But her voice is clear and beautiful; a sound that Violet associates with calmness.

"Who called, honey?" Emily asks, poking her head into Violet's room.

"I don't know, it said blocked number so I ignored it," Violet replies, peeking out of her closet.

Emily frowns, going to the phone.

"It's probably telemarketers or something," Violet adds, disappearing into her closet again.

"Maybe," Emily mumbles, staring at the screen.

Unfortunately she's learned to be overly cautious, especially given the situations she left behind them in Europe.

"What time is your team getting here?" Violet asks, walking out from her closet.

"Oh, shit," Emily breathes. "Eight. I should get ready."

Fifteen minutes later, the buzzer sounds.

"It's us," comes JJ's voice, as Emily answers the buzzer.

"We're in 307," she replies.

She glances back at the kitchen where some food and bottles of wine and liquor are arranged. It's been so long since she hosted. She's not usually nervous person, but for some reason she's feeling a little on edge.

"Vi?" she calls.

"Oui?" Violet responds, from where she's sprawled on the carpet, putting songs on her iPod.

"Comment puis-je l'air?" Emily asks.

"Magnifique, Mama," Violet replies, going back to her music.

Emily checks her reflection in the full-length hall mirror and then a knock sounds at the door.

She opens it up and finds her smiling team, looking refreshed and relaxed.

They start to file in.

"Emily, this place is amazing," Penelope says, taking in the vaulted ceilings and huge windows.

"Oh, thanks," Emily smiles, taking their jackets.

"Where should we put this stuff?" Derek asks.

"Oh, you guys didn't have to bring anything," Emily replies, seeing the bottles and platters.

"I never show up empty-handed," Derek grins.

Emily smiles, amused by his flirtations, taking the bottle he's holding.

"Where's Miss Violette?" Penelope asks. "There she is."

She smiles, as Violet stands up from the carpet and slowly walks to the kitchen.

"I brought you something," Penelope smiles.

She digs in her purse and pulls out a wrapped item.

Violet blushes. "You didn't have to bring me anything," she says.

"I saw it and thought of you," Penelope replies.

Violet likes her. She's always smiling and happy.

She carefully unwraps the package and finds a book.

It's a book of William Wordsworth poems. Violet's eyes find Penelope's and she stares, surprised.

"How did you know I loved Wordsworth?"

"Just a guess," Penelope shrugs.

"Thank you," Violet smiles, moving forward to hug her.

"Don't mention it, sweetie."

Emily smiles, watching, and places a hand on Penelope's arm.

"What's your favourite?" Reid asks Violet.

"Lines Left Upon a Seat in a Yew-Tree," Violet and Emily respond in unison.

Violet wrinkles her nose at her mother teasingly.

"…_and know that pride, howe'er disguised in its own majesty, is littleness_," Reid recites.

"I love it," Violet replies.

"He's a wonderful poet," Reid agrees. "Who else do you like to read?"

Emily's response for Violet is to point towards the expansive bookshelf across the open-concept floor, standing against the far wall.

Immediately Reid walks over, and Violet follows.

"That was so sweet of you," Emily tells Penelope.

"I'm glad she likes it," Penelope replies.

"She loves just about everything in a book," Emily replies. "Except J.D. Salinger."

"Really?" Hotch frowns. "I thought every teenager liked him."

"Not mine," Emily replies, widening her eyes for a moment. "Don't even get her started."

Hotch grins, amused.

"So. Who needs a wine glass and who needs a tumbler?" Emily clasps her hands together.


	6. Chapter 6

Emily looks at her phone, squinting against the light of the screen.

"Come on, JJ," she mutters as she sees the message. "Six a.m. on a Saturday?"

She instantly regrets drinking last night.

She lets her head drop against her pillow for a moment before she rolls over to get up.

She sends a quick reply to JJ and gets into the shower.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later she pulls on a blazer and walks into Violet's room. She's still blissfully asleep.

Emily presses her lips to her daughter's forehead.

"I gotta go to work, honey," she whispers.

"Mmm," Violet groans, not opening her eyes.

Emily lets out a breathy laugh and runs a hand over Violet's silky hair, before leaving.

* * *

At Quantico, Emily walks into their meeting room to find everybody nursing coffee.

"Remind me why I drink?" Penelope presses her fingers against her temples.

"Because Emily throws one hell of a last-minute party," Derek replies with a grin.

"Are you ever not grinning?" Emily asks, sitting down.

"This should do it," JJ replies dryly, clicking on the screen.

The team frowns at the images of several dead women.

"New York City," JJ begins. "Seven women in the last week. All were beaten before being stabbed multiple times in the chest."

"So we're looking for an impotent sadist," Derek mumbles, looking at the files with disgust.

"They were also raped…. Post-mortem," JJ adds.

Emily is grateful that she decided to forego breakfast, and she knows the rest of the team is feeling the same.

"Wheels up in 10," Hotch alerts them. "Let's shut this guy down."

* * *

When Violet wakes up, she vaguely remembers her mother saying goodbye. She's not surprised to the house empty, though. She finds the note that her mother left in the kitchen and pours herself a bowl of cereal.

Her phone rings and she answers it, her mouth full of cereal.

"Hi Mom."

"I figured you'd finally be up by now," Emily replies.

Violet just rolls her eyes.

"Don't forget to do your homework before you make any plans," Emily reminds her.

"Number one, on a list of things you don't need to remind me to do," Violet says dryly.

"Oh listen to you, a riot as soon as you wake up," Emily answers.

"It's the Emily in me," Violet replies.

Emily chuckles.

"Where are you?" Violet asks.

"New York," Emily replies.

"How long do you think you'll be?"

"I'm not sure, baby. We only got here a couple hours ago."

Violet exhales.

"I'm sorry, honey. I know I said I'd take you shopping today."

"It's fine," Violet replies, clicking on the TV.

"Don't lie to your mother," Emily says. "I know you too well."

"Be careful," Violet advises after a moment.

"You too. Text me your plans, alright?"

"Mmhmm."

"And Penelope wanted me to tell you that you can text her if you need anything. She's working from Quantico, but she's closer than I am."

"I don't even know her, Mom. Why would she care about my teenage embêtements?"

"Because she's unbelievably sweet and selfless, and she thinks you're wonderful," Emily replies matter-of-factly. "Maintenant, allez faire vos devoirs."

"I will," Violet promises.

"Je t'aime plus."

"Je t'aime trop," Violet replies.

As Emily hangs up, JJ comes to sit beside her.

"How's Violet?"

"Just waking up," Emily shakes her head.

"Oh, don't even," JJ lets her head fall back against the seat. "I love that you guys speak French to each other."

Emily smiles.

"Sorry, I wasn't eavesdropping," JJ says quickly.

"It's okay," Emily assures her. "Y'know, when I was growing up I used to get annoyed when we moved to another foreign country. Not every one, just the ones whose languages I figured wouldn't matter. But I've used all of them at one time or another."

"It's impressive," JJ agrees. "You've already gotten to use your Arabic and your Greek. And you get to speak French with Violet."

"She speaks five," Emily replies. "You'd never know it. She rarely opens her mouth, she gets so shy."

"_Five _languages?" JJ raises her brow.

Emily nods. "French, Italian, Arabic, Spanish, and Russian. Well, and English, obviously. I never taught her Greek or Ukrainian, though. I only spoke Greek when I lived there, when I was 13, and Ukrainian when I was 17."

"That's amazing," JJ shakes her head. "How does she like Virginia so far?"

"She's used to moving," Emily replies. "Unfortunately."

"She's a trooper," JJ says.

"Yeah," Emily sighs. "I just feel bad, when I think about it."

"Well maybe you two should stick around Virginia for awhile," JJ grins.

"That's the plan," Emily replies.

"I like her little friend, Matthew."

"I do, too. That's the first time I met him," Emily replies, referring to the night before.

"I think he likes Spence, too," JJ adds.

"Yeah," Emily nods slowly. "I'm not sure he picked up on that, but the rest of us did."

They laugh together, causing Spencer and Derek to glance up at them.

A few moments later, they prepare to descend.

* * *

The most recent crime scene is probably the grisliest that Emily has seen in awhile. The woman was beaten so badly that he face is almost unrecognizable. The NYPD used dental records to identify Krysta Milheiser.

As she and Morgan walk carefully around the scene, the chief of police, Evan Michaels, fills them in on the most recent information.

"Mother said she always got home from work before midnight. When she wasn't home by 1:00, she called police. Normally, you'd have to wait 24 hours, but with the recent string of murders, the consulting detective took down the girl's name."

"Good thing he did," Morgan replies. "Who knows how long she'd have gone unnoticed."

The body was dumped in an alley behind a derelict building, and foot traffic is nonexistent. The killer had to have driven the body here to dump it.

"We're analyzing the tire tracks right now," Michaels points towards some tracks.

"Who called in the body?" Emily frowns.

Michaels turns from looking towards a group of his detectives. He raises a brow at her.

"The killer," he replies.

* * *

"How do they know it was the killer?" Spencer asks, as they're shown to a room at the police station.

"Because he said so," JJ answers. "Told them exactly how he killed her and exactly where the body was."

"That's odd," he frowns, thinking.

"It's fucked up, is what it is," Derek mutters.

They sit around a table as JJ starts arranging the victims and their information on a board.

"Fucked up, yes," Emily agrees. "But we're catching this son of a bitch."

* * *

"Brandon Lequire," Penelope says over speaker phone. "His last known residence is 2016 Strauss Street, Brownsville. Apartment 3."

Derek, Spencer, and Emily jump into an SUV. The rest of the team is on their way.

"You guys, be careful. This guy is as sick as they come," Penelope warns. "In and out of foster since he was four; watched his father beat, rape, and kill his mother when he was three, hence his being in foster care."

"Where's his father?" Derek asks.

"He died in 2007," Penelope answers. "In prison."

"Great," Emily mutters.

"That's not all," Penelope warns. "His mother, Janet Ellis, was in and out of psychiatric hospitals for Brandon's entire life, and most of her own. She was schizophrenic. Apparently one of her suicide attempts involved Brandon watching. Officials arriving at the scene found two-year-old Brandon sitting in a pool of his mother's blood."

They can hear the look on Penelope's face over the telephone.

"Sounds like Dexter," Derek says.

"A little too much so," Penelope agrees.

The speeding SUV screeches to a stop in front of an apartment building.

The three of them hop out.

"Prentiss, you take the front. Reid, there's a side door there. I'll take the back door."

In silence they each head towards their assigned entrance.

Emily finds the front of the building empty. The bottom half of the front door is missing its glass, and the locks don't work on either of the two sets of doors.

She moves slowly and carefully, heading for the right apartment. She only knows which one is apartment 3 by the dirty mark left behind from the number that's no longer there.

The door isn't closed all the way. Emily pushes it gently with her foot. It opens easily.

She steps through the doorway, holding her gun out before her.

She sees something large speeding towards her face but it happens faster than she can react.

Then everything goes black.


	7. Chapter 7

She comes to a moment later. She knows this because she's being dragged through the apartment. She gives herself a moment to take in her surroundings. It's dark, lit only by random lamps. The few windows that the apartment actually has are boarded up.

Emily knows her gun is gone. She clenches her teeth, silently reprimanding herself. She's only been at the BAU a little while, and she's already gotten herself into a precarious situation.

The man stops and lets go of her jacket, letting her fall against the floor. Emily moves quickly, getting to her feet. She kicks out one leg but the man is too quick. He moves so she can't kick his legs out and swings his huge arm, backhanding her. She sprawls backwards, the sting taking her breath away.

"Don't even try," his deep voice warns.

He reaches down and grabs her collar. It's then that Emily realizes he's taken off her vest. She feels bare and vulnerable without it.

He pulls her shirt, choking her, and his violently green eyes glare at her before his hand shoots out again, smashing into the left side of her face a second time. She sees flashes of light, he hits her so hard.

She knows Reid and Morgan are nearby, but they won't be able to get in through the boarded-up windows. She wonders how sturdy this psycho has made his front door.

"Hey!"

The sound of Derek's voice is heavenly. A moment later she hears muscle smack against muscle, and then Reid is helping her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" he demands, worried.

"Yeah," she breathes, her hand going to her face.

She can feel blood coming from her mouth and nose.

"You're done, asshole," Derek hisses, slamming Brandon Lequire to the ground.

Emily and Reid watch as he starts to laugh, quietly at first and then until it's maniacal.

Even as Derek hauls him to his feet, with his hands cuffed, Brandon continues to laugh.

* * *

Back at the police station, Emily let's a paramedic tend to her face.

She's embarrassed, but she knows this happens sometimes. Although it hasn't happened to her since Violet was too small to remember. She never wants to come home with her face beaten up, but this time she won't be able to do anything about it.

"You sure you're okay?" Hotch asks, looking at her carefully.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assures him.

He presses his lips together firmly, clearly angry that one of his agents was hurt.

"Minor concussion," the paramedic says. "Follow up with your doctor at home, alright?"

Emily nods and goes to stand up. Hotch's hand is already there to steady her.

"Do you even have a family doctor yet?"

"We haven't seen her yet," Emily replies. "I just have a name."

"I'm taking you to the hospital as soon as we get home," he says.

"No, Hotch, it's fine. Really. You have Haley and Jack to get home to."

He sets his mouth in a firm line and maintains his hold on her until they get to the car.

Emily closes her eyes slowly, rolling them as she hears Hotch reiterate his orders to Gideon, that Emily needs to go to the hospital as soon as they land.

* * *

"Look here," the emergency doctor says. "And here."

Emily follows the little flashlight. She pretends that she doesn't see Hotch standing nearby, his arms crossed seriously.

"A minor concussion," the doctor says a moment later, writing on a prescription pad. "The cuts and bruises on your face will hurt more than your head. Just make sure you take these every six hours."

Emily glances at the script. _Great_, she thinks to herself.

"She's alright to sleep?" Hotch asks.

"Yes. You'll have someone at home with you?" the doctor asks.

"Yes," Emily replies, rubbing her forehead.

It's past midnight and she's exhausted.

* * *

"Y'know, you didn't have to come inside with me," Emily tells Hotch as he opens the car door for her.

"You're a member of this team," comes his reply.

She just exhales as he closes the door. She doesn't want him to know how dumb she feels, but she thinks he gets the gist of it.

"Look, you're not the first person to get hurt on the job," he tells her, as he drives towards her apartment.

"Am I the first one to do with less than a month under my belt?" Emily asks.

He's been all business, as he usually is, but Emily sees him almost smile. _That's twice, _she thinks.

"No, actually," he replies. "I was shot my first week at the BAU."

"What?" Emily looks at him in disbelief.

"Well, shot _at_," he clarifies. "Skimmed my vest."

Emily rolls her eyes, looking away from him, but doesn't hide a grin.

"A bullet grazed your _bulletproof vest_?" she says.

"It was actually really close to my armpit," he adds. "It could have been really bad."

She shakes her head, but stops when it hurts.

"Do you need me to stay with you?" Hotch asks, back to his serious self.

"Of course not," Emily replies. "Thank you, but no. Violet's home."

"Violet's 14," Hotch says.

"You'll never meet a more mature or reliable 14-year-old," Emily replies, reminding herself not to get defensive.

Regardless, when they pull up in front of Emily's building, Hotch gets out of the car.

"Hotch, please," Emily holds up a hand. "I'm fine."

"I'm just making sure you get upstairs," he replies, walking to the door.

Emily relents, letting him have his way.

She unlocks the two locks on the front door to the loft, opening it to find the lights and the TV on. She's not surprised.

"Hi baby," she calls out, getting quieter when she realizes that even talking loudly hurts her head.

"Hey," Violet replies, swinging her legs from the top of the couch.

She stands up, looking surprised to see Hotch.

"Oh," she pauses. "Hi Aaron."

"Hi Violet," he replies politely.

Emily knows her face is going to scare Violet, but she also knows she can't prolong the inevitable. After pulling off her boots, she stands up — slowly, since her head hurts every time she moves it — and faces her daughter.

She hates the way fear looks on her little girl's face.

"Mom!" Violet stares, her mouth opening and staying like that.

"Honey, I'm fine," Emily holds up a hand and walks towards Violet. "It looks worse than it is."

When she reaches her daughter, Emily puts her arms around her and feels Violet hug her back tightly.

"What happened?" Violet cries.

Emily winces.

"Let's get your mom settled on the couch," Hotch suggests.

Violet grips her mother's hand and walks with her to the couch, where Emily carefully sits down.

"What happened?" Violet demands again.

"Your mom helped arrest a serial killer," Hotch replies.

"And got pummelled in the process?" Violet stares at Hotch with a mixture of fear and anger.

"Pummelled is a bit of an overstatement," Emily replies, slightly offended. "He only got two hits in."

She's not even sure if that's correct, but she doesn't need her daughter freaking out.

"Mom, you have dried blood on your face and you look the way you did when I did your makeup, when I was four," Violet retorts.

"Thank god you've improved on that skill," Emily replies, trying a joke.

Violet's response is the same terrified anger that's been on her face since she first saw her mother.

"Did you go to the hospital?"

"Of course I did, baby," Emily replies, reaching out to pull Violet down onto the couch beside her. "Listen, I'm okay. I promise."

She hugs Violet to her chest, glancing up at Hotch to tell him, with a look, that it's okay for him to leave.

"I'll call tomorrow," he tells her.

"Thanks, Hotch," she replies.

When he's gone, Violet lifts her head. Emily's throat tightens as she sees tears streaking down her daughter's face.

"What was so bad about a desk job in Paris? Huh?" Violet demands.

"Come here, baby," Emily soothes, pulling Violet to her again. She lies back into the huge couch, hugging Violet to her. "Remember when you were six and you broke your arm? Remember how you didn't make a sound until I came to the school to get you, and then all of a sudden you burst into tears?"

Violet nods slightly against her shoulder.

"You said it didn't hurt that badly, you were just so relieved when I got there that the tears came," Emily goes on. "Well this doesn't hurt that badly."

"What if something happens to you?" Violet asks, almost a whisper.

"Nothing's going to happen to me, baby."

Violet lifts her head and stares at her mother. "Are you serious? Have you seen your face?"

Emily uses her thumbs to wipe away the tears on Violet's face and then gently pulls her to lie down again.

"Vi, this was not a common thing," Emily assures her. "Derek got there so fast."

Violet just shakes her head, burying her face as a sob escapes her.

Emily swallows hard as tears fill her own eyes. She was never a crier, when she was younger. Not until she had Violet did she start being someone who cried, and it has always only been when it's related to Violet. Whenever Violet cries, tears immediately flood her own eyes.

It takes awhile before Violet's sobs quieten. Emily just continues to stroke her hair, singing the song that's been able to calm Violet down since she was a baby.

_Come, Josephine, in my flying machine,_

_Going up, she goes, up, she goes,_

_Balance yourself like a bird on a beam,_

_In the air, she goes, there she goes…_


	8. Chapter 8

Violet carefully lifts open her mother's eyelid, flashing the penlight towards the reactive pupil. It causes Emily to wake up and frown.

"What are you doing?" she croaks, instantly aware of the pain. Everywhere.

Violet bites her bottom lip and glances away for a second. "Checking your pupils," she replies.

"Why?" Emily asks, slowly bringing her hands up to her face. It feels swollen and sore.

"The same reason I did it at 5:00 this morning," Violet replies, rolling off the bed and dropping the penlight on Emily's night stand. "To make sure you're alive."

"What?" Emily frowns. "Honey, stop worrying about me. Come here. Did you even sleep?"

"Yes," Violet replies, holding out some pills and a bottle of water. "Here. It's those prescription pills."

Emily takes them gratefully. "Thanks, baby."

She sets them down and reaches out to Violet, pulling her in for a hug.

"You okay?" she asks, taking Violet's cheek in her palm.

Violet nods, chewing her lip, which means she's lying. Emily lets it go for now.

She slowly drinks the water, realizing how thirsty she is. She squints at the clock.

"It's noon?"

"Mmhmm," Violet replies, crawling across Emily and picking up her book from the other night stand.

Emily slept for almost 12 hours. She moves slowly to get up. Her head is pounding. She sees Violet glance at her and bite her lip again before staring back at her book. Emily wonders how bad her face looks.

She makes her way to the bathroom and flicks on the lights.

Her lips part in surprise, seeing herself. Her black eye is even more purple and swollen. Her top lip is split and feels like a marble is stuck in there, forming a colourful bruise. And her cheekbone is puffy and whirled with purple and blue.

She goes to press her lips together and winces from the pain. She runs her tongue over her split lip, feeling the expanse of the hard swollen area. It throbs, so she stops.

"Great," she mutters under her breath.

She's been passed out for 12 hours while her child stood guard and checked her pupillary responses.

She exhales deeply and starts to brush her teeth slowly.

The door buzzes and she sees Violet pass the bathroom to go downstairs. She can't hear who it is so she quickly pulls on an old Yale sweater and goes downstairs. The throbbing in her head is slowly subsiding. Those drugs work fast.

"Who is it, honey?" she asks.

"Penelope," Violet replies, unlocking the door.

Emily's not surprised. A moment later Violet opens the door to reveal Penelope Garcia, laden with grocery bags.

"Oh my god," she breathes, seeing Emily. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make it worse by saying that. I just can't... Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Emily promises.

She wonders how many times she's said that in the past 24 hours.

Penelope hurries over and hugs Emily, trying to be gentle but forever fierce in her love for her friends.

"And you," she says, turning to Violet and hugging her. "You poor thing, waking up to your mom like this. Do you need anything? I brought groceries, and books, and movies, and you basically don't have to leave your house for the next week. I have everything you'll need. Both of you. Oh, you poor girl. Come here."

She hugs Violet again and Emily can't help but grin.

"I'm okay," Violet tells Penelope. "I'm not the one with a bulbous, purple face."

The look of worry is permanent on Penelope's face today.

Emily reaches out and tucks a lock of silky dark hair behind Violet's ear. Violet glances at her, but seeing her mother this way, beaten and bruised, makes her chest tighten so she quickly looks away.

Penelope picks up the bags of groceries and hauls them into the kitchen.

"I'm making breakfast for you," she declares. "You both need to rest and relax, and not worry about cooking. I've got it under control."

Emily smiles as Penelope gets to work.

"Garcia, you've got everything under control, all the time," she says. "I've never questioned that. But you don't have to do this. Really."

Penelope just raises her brow at her.

"I said rest and relax," she repeats, nodding towards the living room. "Get on that couch, missy. And take your mini you with you."

"Garcia," Emily tilts her head, taking a step towards the kitchen.

"Ah," Penelope warns, holding up a hand. "You may know me as Penelope sweet-and-nice, but I'm not afraid to introduce you to Penelope strict-and-mean."

"You? Mean?" Emily raises an eyebrow.

"Couch," Penelope replies.

Emily takes a breath, slowly closing her eyes, but then reaches out and puts a hand on Violet's back.

"Come on, baby," she breathes.

* * *

The drugs make Emily tired and she falls asleep on the couch within five minutes of eating breakfast. Violet glances at her mother and gets up from the couch, carrying their plates into the kitchen where Penelope is still cooking.

"Oh, let me take those, honey," she smiles at Violet, taking the dirty dishes.

Violet chews her lip, taking a seat at one of the island stools.

"Thanks for coming over," she ventures softly.

Penelope smiles warmly. "Oh, honey. Don't mention it. I told you, whatever you need, I'm here."

"I was kind of expecting you'd show up this morning," Violet says, almost smiling.

"Am I that predictable?" Penelope teases, chopping vegetables.

"Maybe," Violet shrugs. "You just seem...that nice."

Penelope smiles. She loves kids and she was instantly smitten with Violet. With no siblings, she'll never get to be an aunt. She plans to be the best aunt she can be to her friends' children.

"How long have you worked at the BAU?" Violet asks.

Penelope has been able to tell that Violet is shy, so the fact that she's opening up to her makes her want to grab Violet and hug her fiercely. She settles for the conversation.

"Almost four years," she answers.

"Where'd you go to school?"

"Well, I was at Cal-tech, working on my degree when my parents were killed," she answers honestly. "After that I kind of went underground. I didn't know what to do with myself, but I kept learning coding and computers. I've always loved computers. After a little while, I found myself at the BAU."

"I'm sorry," Violet says, again chewing her bottom lip. "About your parents."

Penelope smiles warmly. "Me too. They were really great," she replies. "They would have loved you."

Violet blushes.

"What do you mean 'found yourself at the BAU'?"

"Well," Penelope grins mischievously. "I may have gotten myself onto some lists... I got very good at getting computers to do what I wanted, and that got me into some sticky situations."

Violet stares, enthralled. "You're a hacker?"

Penelope laughs. "Technically, I suppose. But the point is, my skills got me to where I am today."

"So you can like, hack into anybody's computer, do whatever you want," Violet says.

"I have sworn to use my powers for good," Penelope replies, holding up her hand as though reciting an oath.

Violet laughs. "That's so cool."

Penelope grins, happy to have Violet's company and respect.

"What are you making?"

"Stew," Penelope replies. "It's my mother's recipe, and it's the best stew you'll ever taste. You Prentiss's _do _eat beef, right?"

"We eat whatever's put in front of us," Violet replies. "Except weird stuff, like escargots and roe."

She wrinkles her nose.

"Oh my," Penelope laughs. "You look exactly like your mom sometimes."

Violet rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"Everyone says that," she says.

"You guys are pretty close, huh?"

"Yeah," Violet replies, then shrugs. "I guess. Sometimes she's so embarrassing, and other times she just makes me wanna rip my hair out."

"I think that's normal," Penelope says.

Violet nods, snacking on a bowl of blueberries that Penelope sets out.

"How are you liking school here? I bet it's a lot different from Paris."

"It is," Violet replies. "But I like it. The kids at my last school were pretty...snobby. Mom keeps putting me in these private schools full of kids I have nothing in common with."

"Matthew seems great."

"He is," Violet nods. "I like him, but even he sees what I mean. Some of the kids at school just act like they're...I dunno, grown up. And better than everybody."

"Yeah, I think you'll find that no matter what school you go to," Penelope replies understandingly.

The phone rings and Violet leans over to pick it up.

When she clicks a button to stop the ringing and sets it back down, Penelope frowns.

"This weird number has called us a couple times," Violet explains. "It says it's blocked or something, and Mom always told me not to answer those."

"Hmm," Penelope hums, picking up the phone to see the screen. "That is weird."

It rings again as she's holding it.

"Oh," she holds it out to Violet. "It's Hotch."

"He said he was going to call," Violet says, taking the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey. Violet. It's Aaron."

"Hi Aaron."

"How are you guys doing today?"

"Good. Mom slept for about 12 hours."

"That's great. How's she feeling?"

"She's sleeping again. Those drugs just knock her out," Violet replies.

"Are you alright?"

Violet hides a small grin. She knows Hotchner has a little boy, but it's like he thinks Violet is a little kid or something.

"Yeah, I'm good. Penelope's here."

"Ah," Aaron replies.

It's the first time Violet's heard a smile in his voice.

"I should have known. I expect she's got you both fed and taken care of, then."

"Yep," Violet replies. "She's concocting something delicious in our kitchen as we speak."

"Well I'm glad you're both in good hands," Hotch says. "I'll check in with you guys tomorrow. Let me know if you or Emily need anything."

"Okay," Violet answers. "Thanks."

She hangs up and goes back to watching Penelope cook.

"Isn't he great?" Penelope smiles, rolling a cutting board full of carrots into a huge pot.

"He seems like a great boss," Violet ventures. "But why is he so serious all the time?"

"He has a soft side," Penelope replies. "He just likes to take care of his team. He's like a Papa Bear. He comes across as all serious and everything, but he's one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet."

"For some reason, I think you'd be hard-pressed to have something bad to say about somebody," Violet grins, slipping a blueberry into her mouth.

"Hey, I have no problem telling things like they are," Penelope replies, trying to give Violet a stern look. "I just also happen to see the best in people."

Violet smiles, swinging her legs from the stool and looking over at her mother, still asleep.

"And our little BAU family, has the very best people," Penelope adds, winking at Violet as she starts chopping more vegetables.


	9. Chapter 9

A week later, Emily's bruises had all morphed into a yellowish-green colour. The swelling had gone down and she is feeling like herself again, mostly because she isn't drugged and sleeping 22 hours a day.

On Friday morning, the team greets her enthusiastically as she enters the common area where she, Reid, and Morgan have their desks.

"How are you feeling?" JJ asks, giving her a hug.

"I'm fine," Emily tells them, happy to be back at work. "Seriously. I'm great. Everyone can stop freaking out."

"We're just worried about you, Em," Morgan says, taking his turn to hug her. "How's Little Prentiss?"

"A little too glad to have me out of the house today," Emily replies, frowning slightly with offence.

"No school today?" JJ asks.

"It's Thanksgiving weekend," Reid reminds her.

"Oh yeah," JJ shakes her head. "That reminds me, you and Violet have to come to Gideon's tomorrow."

"Oh...k," Emily replies slowly, confused.

"Well I just assumed you guys wouldn't have anything Thanksgiving plans," JJ shrugs.

"Oh, fuck," Emily mutters, rubbing her temple.

"You okay?" Derek asks, standing up.

"Yeah, no, I just forgot about Thanksgiving," Emily replies. "Vi and I usually just stay home and order in."

Penelope, arriving at work, stops in her tracks to stare at Emily with the same look that Reid, JJ, and Derek are giving her, though Reid's is less upset and more curious.

"Please tell me you're joking," Penelope says seriously.

Emily glances at each of them. "Nnno," she answers slowly. "We were in Europe for the last several years. Thanksgiving isn't a thing over there. We'd 'celebrate', I guess, if you can call it that, by calling my mother and making turkey jokes."

"Emily Prentiss, you will bring my precious Violet to Jason Gideon's house tomorrow at promptly 2:00 p.m., do you hear me?" Penelope orders.

Emily's brow raises.

"It's Thanksgiving," Penelope cries. "And you guys are a part of this family now."

She gives Emily a stern look and then walks away, towards her office.

Derek grins, amused.

"You gonna try and disobey her" he asks Emily dubiously.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Emily replies, glancing back at Garcia before sitting down at her desk.

* * *

Having the house to herself, Violet slept in until noon and spends the rest of the afternoon lazing around in her pajamas, reading and hanging out. When her mother walks in the door at 5:00, Violet is lying on the couch with her legs swung over the top and her head hanging towards the floor.

"Hey, Mary Jane," Emily calls. "How was your day?"

"That's terrible, Mom," Violet replies, rolling her eyes. "Spiderman is the one who hangs upside down _while _kissing Mary Jane."

"Oh, yeah," Emily frowns, pausing to remember. "Huh. Good thing you don't have a friend over for me to embarrass you in front of."

"Alas, as the great Gloria Gaynor once sang, 'I will survive'," Violet says dryly.

Emily chuckles, sitting beside her on the couch and tilting her head to look at her daughter.

"I will never understand how you inherited the soul of a 60-year-old Englishman," she shakes her head.

"And I will never understand HTML," Violet sighs, grabbing a book from the coffee table while maintaining her upside-down position. "Can you believe Penelope has all of this stuff in her head?"

Emily takes the book and thumbs through it.

"She's something else, huh?" Emily agrees. "I can barely check my email."

Violet switches a few channels.

"So your hacker dreams have withered?" Emily guesses.

"Yeah," Violet replies. "Should I need something hacked, I know where to go."

Emily smiles, setting the book back down.

"So, I hope you didn't have any plans for tomorrow," she begins.

"Matthew wanted me to come over and watch his family's Thanksgiving," Violet shrugs.

"Watch?"

"Yeah. Apparently it gets really Maury-esque. His mother starts getting all weepy about having a gay son, and his grandmother tells her to shut up because she thinks Matthew is the greatest person on the planet, and all of his family just gets wasted at the dinner table. I was planning on telling him you said I couldn't go."

"Do you want to go?" Emily raises an eyebrow.

"There's nothing I'd rather do less," Violet replies. "I like Matthew, but I'm not really ready to watch that show."

Emily laughs, leaning back into the couch and resting an arm across Violet's stomach.

"Well, Gideon's having Thanksgiving at his house. The whole team is going," Emily tells her.

"Cool," Violet replies, changing the channel again.

Emily's a little surprised but stays quiet, choosing just to smile. In Paris, Violet would go out of her way to avoid any work functions of Emily's. Granted, Emily's coworkers weren't nearly as friendly and warm as the BAU, but she had a couple of friends there that she'd have coffee with or something.

"So, 1:30 or so tomorrow, we have to head outta here," Emily tells her.

"Okay," Violet replies, clicking the remote control. "Oh hey, it's the movie you love."

"Ooo, _Steel Magnolias_," Emily cries, jiggling Violet. "Leave it, leave it."

"Fine," Violet sighs, dropping the remote on the table. "But as soon as you get teary-eyed, I'm outta here."

Emily's response is to start tickling at Violet's ribs while she shrieks, only stopping when Violet apologizes.

* * *

"_This _is Gideon's house?" Violet stares at the massive structure in front of them.

"If Garcia's handwriting and my GPS is correct, then yes," Emily replies, leaning down to catch a better look at the house.

The huge brick house has white pillars and lots of windows, and a longer driveway than either of them were expecting.

Emily pulls the car forward a little more and they see a big garage, with several cars parked in front of it.

"Oh, there's Derek's car, and Hotch's," Emily points. "Definitely the right house."

"If I had any innate desire for a father, I'd tell you to bag this guy, fast," Violet murmurs, still checking out the house.

Violet's father has chosen to not be a part of her life from the moment Emily told him that she was pregnant. She's tried to be the best parent she can be, but it still bothers her sometimes when she thinks about the fact that she can't give Violet everything she wishes she could.

"Nice," Emily replies, giving Violet a look.

They climb out of the SUV and walk towards the front door, Emily carrying a store-bought layer cake and Violet clutching an expensive bottle of wine.

"How did you manage to get to carry the wine?" Emily asks.

Violet just grins, rolling her eyes.

Emily barely has her finger off the doorbell when the door swings open, revealing Gideon and Penelope, and a bustling scene behind them.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" he and Penelope say, moving aside to welcome them in.

"Come in, come in," Gideon smiles. "Let me take your coats."

"Were my directions easy enough?" Penelope asks, cringing with uncertainty.

"Yeah, they were great," Emily assures her, as Gideon takes her jacket. "We brought dessert. And wine."

Violet holds out the wine and Gideon grins.

"A 2010 Tignanello?" Gideon says, eyeing the bottle.

"You said it was your favourite," Violet shrugs, her cheeks blushing slightly.

"Emily, the memory on this one," Gideon says to her. "Phenomenal."

"You're tellin' me," Emily smiles.

He takes the bottle from Violet and leads her towards the kitchen, chattering away.

"That's like a $120 bottle of wine," Penelope stares.

"I know," Emily sighs, as they start to follow. "But she said it had to be that one. I didn't even remember him saying that."

Penelope just grins, linking her arm through Emily's.

They reach the large, open-concept area where the kitchen, dining area, and living room all sort of collide. Aside from the team, Spencer's mother is here, Hotch's wife and little boy, and Gideon's girlfriend, Sarah.

They greet everybody happily, and Hotch introduces them to his family.

When Reid approaches with his mother, he smiles with pride at Violet.

"Mom, this is Violet, the one I was telling you about," he introduces. "Violet, this is my mother, Diana."

Violet blushes, shaking Diana's hand.

"You're the one who beat my Spencer at chess," Diana smiles.

"Just once," Violet replies shyly, glancing down at her fidgeting fingers.

"Twice, actually," Spencer points out. "We played at your place, the night of your guys' last-minute party."

"Oh," Violet remembers. "Well, either way. Spencer's the genius here."

"He certainly is," Diana smiles proudly. "But I hear you're quite the scholar as well."

Violet blushes again and is grateful when her mother appears, beckoned by Spencer. He introduces Emily to his mother.

"And you met my Violet," Emily smiles, her arm around her daughter.

"I did," Diana nods. "She's wonderful. I'd love to watch her and Spencer play chess. It's fascinating to watch, isn't it? Brains at work."

"I can't tell you how many hours I've spent watching Violet play chess," Emily replies. "She's such a natural, it's amazing."

Gideon, at the bar in the corner, calls Emily and Violet over.

"Violet's tried wine before, correct?" Gideon asks Emily, as he twists the corkscrew.

"Yes, sir, she has," Emily nods slowly. "In Paris, it wasn't uncommon for teenagers to try a little."

"Oh, no judgment here, Emily," Gideon assures her. "I just wanted to make sure it was okay for her to help me crack this bottle."

He pops the cork out and gently swishes the bottle a little, smelling the fruity aroma.

"Since you two were kind enough to bring my favourite wine," he says, pouring a little into two glasses. "I think it's only fitting that you have the first taste."

Violet glances at her mother and Emily nods encouragingly. She has to smile as Violet carefully, artfully, takes a sip of the wine and tries to be inconspicuous as she tastes it, drawing air into her mouth and swirling the wine around.

Even Gideon smiles, amused and impressed.

"I see what you mean," Violet says a moment later, after she swallows the wine and nods. "Tannins are kind of...silky, almost."

Gideon looks at Emily happily and then pours himself a glass.

"You have good taste, Gideon," Emily nods, swirling the wine in her glass.

He holds his glass up to cheers and then takes a sip, closing his eyes slowly and then looking at the vibrant ruby liquid.

"And they make incredible wine," he replies.

* * *

Being Gideon's house, there are lots of interesting little knick-knacks around. Spencer and Violet walk slowly around the living room where several shelves boast books, photos, and other fascinating things.

"Hey, you should be able to do this in what, seven seconds?" Violet says, tossing a Rubik's Cube to Spencer.

Instantly intrigued, he begins working on the Cube. Seconds later, he's done.

"What is that, a party trick?" Derek asks, wandering over.

"Not a very popular one," Spencer replies. "I used to have one of these in high school. People just made of me for it."

"People are idiots," Violet replies.

"You clean up good, Reid," Derek grins, taking in Spencer's dress attire.

"Thank you," Reid replies, straightening his shirt. "It's not that different from work clothes."

"Trust me," Derek assures him, clapping him on the shoulder. "You too, Vi. You look beautiful."

Violet blushes, glancing down at the deep violet dress she chose.

"How ironic that purple is your colour," he winks.

"Let's just be glad my mother didn't favour magenta or something when I was born," Violet replies, causing Derek to laugh loudly.

"You talking about me?" Emily asks, sidling over to the three of them.

"Always," Violet replies.

"It's probably because I'm just the best mom there is," Emily nods understandingly.

"Nailed it," Violet says, rolling her eyes at her mother but unable to repress a smile.

"I was telling her it's ironic that her name's Violet, and the colour was made for her, too," Derek supplies.

"Yep," Emily nods, running a hand down Violet's arm. "She's a vision, this one."

"And thank god you didn't have a different favourite colour," Violet adds.

"Like what?" Emily smiles.

"I dunno. Magenta? Fuchsia?" Violet shrugs.

Emily laughs.

"Magenta Prentiss," she says thoughtfully. "It has an interesting ring to it."

"If by interesting you mean disgusting, then yes. Extremely interesting," Violet replies.

She wanders with Spencer over to the nearby chess board.

"Aw, come back," Emily calls.

Violet shakes her head, shooting a faux dirty look.

"I'm pretty embarrassing, as far as moms go," Emily says, as she and Derek watch the two of them settle down to play.

"It's part of your job," Derek shrugs. "And I think you're amazing at it."

"Yeah?" Emily asks, still watching her daughter.

It's something she worries about, but doesn't talk about with people, really.

"Absolutely," Derek replies. "Look at her. She's smart, funny, sweet. She's not walking around wearing next to nothing or trying to be older than she is, smoking and rebelling. She's incredible. And you raised her."

Emily smiles, turning to glance at Derek before looking back at Violet.

"I did do a pretty amazing job, huh?" she says.

Derek laughs, putting a hand on her back to direct her towards the bar.

"You did," he nods. "Now how about we refill your glass while your Mini Me whoops Reid's ass at chess?"


	10. Chapter 10

A few days later, Emily takes Violet shopping. She'd meant to days ago but everything got crazy.

Afterwards they sit at a cafe.

"It was pretty boring, actually," Emily says, referring to their interdepartmental meeting at work that day. "Plus, Strauss was in there. Something about that woman's face just makes me wanna…"

She shakes her head, foregoing her comment.

"Anyway. What about you? How was your day?"

"Well," Violet sighs. "Some kid flipped out in the library and knocked over this glass vase. Apparently these two guys were teasing him or something, and he just snapped. And these two girls in my grade are supposed to be best friends but now they hate each other, because of this One Direction-wannabe guy named Taylor. Anyway, today in gym, one of them spiked a volleyball into the other one's head and they started fighting. Like, really going at it. Daughtry, one of the girls, had scratch marks on her _face_. The gym teacher broke it up and sent them to the principal's office, but apparently Daughtry shoved Alyssa against the wall on the way there, which started another scrap, so they're both suspended."

Emily stares, half horrified and half enthralled.

After a moment, she makes a face. "Daughtry?"

"I know," Violet mirrors the look. "It's…quite an interesting name choice on her parents' part."

Emily exhales and takes a sip of her coffee. "When did school become a place I had to be scared to send you?"

"I dunno," Violet shakes her head slowly. "Somedays I totally stand with homeschoolers."

"Yeah? You want me to be your teacher?" Emily grins.

"No," Violet replies bluntly.

"Hey, come on," Emily frowns. "I taught you every language you know!"

"Yes, and I'm grateful for that," Violet replies. "But I think the amount of time we spend together is right at a healthy level. Plus, how would we, y'know…live?"

"Cash in on those trust funds that my mother has set up, obviously," Emily replies.

"Oh, yeah," Violet murmurs, remembering. "Well, shit. Let's do that."

"Language," Emily gives her a look.

Violet sighs, pulling a new book out of a shopping bag.

"That's the longest you've waited to open a new book," Emily teases. "I thought we'd at least make it to the car."

Violet grins at the teasing, reading the book jacket.

Emily sips her coffee, looking up. She glances around at the little cafe, and outside at the passersby. Suddenly, she sees a familiar face. Her stomach clenches and her breath catches in her chest. She blinks…and he's gone.

"What's wrong?" Violet demands, frowning at her mother.

Emily glances away from her daughter to where she could have sworn she saw him.

"Nothing," she replies, looking back at Violet.

"You lie about as well as I do," Violet raises an eyebrow.

The look is so Emily that Emily has to chuckle. She sees that Violet's danish is mostly finished, but has been abandoned on the plate.

"You ready to go?" she asks, pushing her coffee cup away.

Violet hesitates but decides that her mother's behaviour isn't weird enough to merit more questioning.

"'K," she nods, gathering her shopping bags.

* * *

"Anything else? You got everything you need?" Emily asks, as she pulls out of the mall parking lot.

"If you're offering to replace my iPod, I accept," Violet replies, not looking up from her book.

"The iPod you left in your jeans and it went through the wash? No. I'm definitely not."

"The iPod that I _forgot _in my jeans and _you _put through the wash," Violet corrects.

"Not working on me, babe," Emily replies.

"I'm nothing if not willing to try," Violet mumbles.

Emily chuckles.

"What do you have for homework?"

"Math," Violet replies. "History. Spanish."

"That still makes no sense to me," Emily shakes her head. "How can a private school offer only two language courses?"

"Who cares," Violet answers. "It's the easiest A-plus I'll ever get."

"Violet," Emily laughs, pushing her playfully from the driver's seat. "What kind of attitude is that?"

"Mom, seriously. You just said it: what kind of private school offers two language courses? They obviously weren't going to let me move here from Paris and take French as a second language. And yet they enforce the second language rule. Is it my fault I come from a long line of multilinguals? No. Let's just take this gift and move on."

Emily considers this and shrugs, nodding. "When you put it like that," she says.

"Oh, I got invited to this stupid dance thing at school," Violet says.

Emily's eyes widen and she looks at Violet happily. "Honey, that's great."

"By Matthew," Violet informs her. "We're just going to hang out. It's not a big deal or anything. Don't start planning some kind of photo op and salon appointment."

"Jeez," Emily replies, making a face. "Cut a mom some slack."

"I'm just saying," Violet says. "You were definitely about to say something along one of those lines. I'm literally going to wear what I'd wear to go to a movie, we're going for an hour for the credit, and we're leaving."

"You get credit for going to a dance?"

"Extra credit," Violet shrugs. "But yeah."

"That's like…"

"Sanctioned school activities? Yes," Violet says for her.

"Pretty much," Emily mumbles, pulling in to their underground parking. "When is it?"

"Friday."

"As in the day after tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Honey, you need to work on giving me some notice," Emily tells her.

"Sorry," Violet replies. "It's not a big deal. It's not like I'm excited for it or something."

"Not even a little?" Emily asks.

They get out of the car, gathering bags.

"Not really," Violet replies honestly.

"Come on," Emily encourages, as they head for the doors. "First school dance in the States. You get to hang out with Matthew. You might meet some new friends."

"New friends?" Violet raises her eyebrow. "Like Daughtry and Alyssa?"

Emily frowns, taking this in.

"You're right," she says after a moment. "Maybe just stay in a corner with Matthew."

* * *

When Friday comes along, Emily and the BAU are called out to Kansas for a case.

"I'm sorry, baby," Emily tells Violet over the phone. "I don't think I'll be back in time to drive you and Matthew to the dance."

"That's okay," Violet replies. "We can just take a cab or something."

"Not or something," Emily tells her. "Take a cab. I don't want you out walking around."

"Okay," Violet replies.

"Vi?" Emily warns, knowing.

"Okay, Mom," Violet says, annoyed. "I promise. We'll take a cab."

She checks in with Violet every hour, making sure she's alright; that she takes the cab.

* * *

The team saves the life of a young boy in Kansas who was kidnapped from a school yard. They found him on a farm, being held by a psychopathic pedophile. Unfortunately the boy had already been abused by the man, but they focus on the fact that the boy is back in the arms of his parents, and didn't end up dead, like the 11 kids before him.

"How's Violet's dance?" JJ asks Emily on the plane.

"The last text I got from her says, 'Just watched four girls indulge in some vodka tampons in the girl's bathroom. So glad we moved to Virginia,'."

She raises an eyebrow at JJ, who just looks disgusted.

"So…I'll be picking her up as soon as we land," Emily adds.

"I think that goes without saying," JJ nods.

* * *

Their phones are shut off temporarily while they're in the air, and Emily turns hers back on as soon as the wheels hit the ground, then she goes inside with the rest of the team.

They're greeted by a terrified-looking Penelope, who rushes towards them as soon as they enter the building.

"What's goin' on, mama?" Derek asks, concerned.

"Your phone was off," Penelope says to Emily, her voice sounding scared.

"I just turned it on," Emily says, reaching into her pocket. "What's going on?"

Penelope swallows hard. "There's been a shooting. At Violet's school."


	11. Chapter 11

Emily's heart stops in her chest. She can't breathe, but somehow she turns around and starts to run. Derek is the only person who runs fast enough to catch up with her. He jumps into the passenger seat.

"Emily, listen to me," he says, trying to get her to focus on him. "Let me drive you."

Wordlessly she starts the SUV and peels out of the parking lot.

She doesn't notice the rest of the team racing behind her in a black SUV. Hotch is driving. He pulls in front of Emily with his lights going, making sure her drive will be as fast and easy as possible.

Emily gets out her phone, trying to drive and see her text messages at the same time. She doesn't understand why she can't see her screen. She doesn't realize that her eyes are full, but refusing to spill over.

"Emily, pull over!" Derek demands, his voice hard.

Frantic, Emily slams on the brakes. A car behind them swerves to miss them, honking angrily. As soon as the car is stopped, Derek leaps out of the passenger side and races around to the driver's side. Emily climbs over onto the passenger seat.

She's always good in a tense situation. Always. This is why she's had the jobs that she has. She can keep her cool, she can compartmentalize. But right now, she feels like she's spinning.

Not Violet. It cannot be Violet. Her Violet.

She blinks, trying to see her phone. Texts from Violet fill the screen. She reads them as fast as she can, scrolling up so she can start at the beginning.

_Oh my god, Mom come get me. Someone has a gun._

_Goddammit, you're in an airplane. Please text me back. _

_Mommy, come get me please!_

_OK, I'm OK. I'm in a janitor closet with Matthew. Text, don't call. _

_I love you. Please know I love you. Whatever happens. _

Emily's eyes sting and her throat feels like it's closing in on itself.

This can't be real.

But it is.

_This is real, _she tells herself. _Smarten up. Do what you have to do._

She tries to take a deep breath but it catches in her throat. She feels strangely shocked by the partial sob that escapes.

"We're almost there, Em," Derek promises, squeezing her hand. "We'll get her. We'll get Vi."

She doesn't speak. She can't.

"Drive faster," she tries to say, but the word chokes off.

She swallows the ending of the sentence, clenching her teeth together.

* * *

Violet feels like her heart is going to beat out of her chest. She learned from the best teacher very early on to stay calm when things went crazy. To use her head. She's trying to do that, but this is the first time she's been in a truly terrifying situation.

She half wishes that she hadn't sent that last text message. It sounds like a goodbye to her mother, but she's so scared that she needs it to be the last thing her mom hears from her. Or reads from her.

Matthew's large, long-fingered hand is gripping hers. She can feel his pulse through his fingers. Or else it's her own. Either way, they're both panicking.

As soon as the kid came in the gym with the gun, Violet had grabbed Matthew and ran. Something in her just told her to.

The first safe place she could find was the janitorial closet.

"Eleven shots," Violet mumbles, chewing her lip.

Matthew glances at her. He's impressed at how fast she acted.

"That many?" he whispers.

Violet nods.

"It's dark," she adds. "He might not have hit anybody."

"He knew exactly who he wanted to hit," Matthew whispers back.

Violet looks at him.

"Those two seniors," Matthew tells her. "The ones who were teasing him in the library? They're always on his case."

Violet forgot—Matthew was in the library the other day, when Devon, the shooter, knocked over the vase.

"My mom will be here," Violet tells him, for the third time. "As soon as their plane lands, they'll come."

"The police are already here. Somewhere," Matthew says.

"She's FBI."

Matthew's eyes widen. "Your _mom _works for the _FBI_?"

"Yeah," Violet murmurs.

She doesn't go around broadcasting that information. She only told Matthew that her mom worked in law enforcement.

"Holy shit!" Matthew stares at her. "That's fucking amazing! Where are they then?"

Just then, Violet's phone buzzes. Her heart leaps, seeing her mother's message.

_I'm coming. Please stay where you are. I will find you. I love you. You're going to be okay. Keep texting me so I know you're okay._

Her eyes fill immediately.

_Goddammit, _she mutters inside her head.

It's just like when she was six and broke her arm. She can act tough in front of anybody, except her mother. As soon as she sees her, or apparently even reads a text, Violet feels that pull to crawl into her mother's lap and disappear there. Like it's the safest place in the world.

She sees the battery icon and closes her eyes slowly. She's in the red zone. It's going to die any minute.

"What did she say?" Matthew demands.

"She's coming," Violet whispers, pacing the few steps she can within the small closet. "We just have to wait."

Matthew takes a deep breath.

"I feel like I'm going to piss myself," he mutters, his hands shaking so badly that he tries to settle them by clasping them on top of his head.

"I wouldn't judge you," Violet replies.

Matthew lets out a quiet burst of laughter, which makes Violet smile, just for a second.

"I'm sorry," Matthew breathes, covering his mouth. "When I get really fucking scared, I start laughing. I don't know why."

"It's just your body's way of releasing the tension," Violet replies, making herself take even breaths.

They're quiet again, listening. The door doesn't lock from the inside so they keep gripping the handle, hoping that if Devon tries to open it, he thinks it's locked.

"How long has it b-"

Violet's cut off by the sound of several gunshots. They sound like they're right outside the door, and she jumps at the sounds.

"You did this!" comes a devastated scream. "_You did this!_"

Violet meets Matthew's eyes and they both hold their breath.

"I'm sorry, man," they hear someone sob. "I'm sorry."

Matthew's hand tightens around Violet's. His mouth starts to open but Violet's hand snaps up and covers it. She shakes her head. Her entire body is vibrating with fear.

* * *

The SUV full of Hotch and the others slams to a stop in the parking lot of Violet's school. Emily is already out before Derek comes to a full stop. She almost trips but keeps running.

"Hey!" an officer yells, coming towards her.

"It's alright," comes Hotch's voice, and then his hands are gripping her arms.

He flashes the officer his badge.

"What do you guys know?" he demands.

The officer immediately straightens, ready to answer any questions Hotch has.

"Kid showed up with a gun. We've had several callers from inside the school, all students. Shots have been fired and we have someone in the gymnasium saying there are four injured students."

Emily grinds her teeth together. Unable to stand still and knowing she can't run inside, like she wants to, she starts to pace.

She pulls out her phone. The last message she got from Violet came seven minutes ago, telling her mother that she was still okay.

Emily lets out a breath that shakes its way out of her lungs.

"She's okay?" Hotch asks, his stern face in front of hers.

Emily nods.

"She's in a janitorial closet," Emily says tightly. "It's been seven minutes since she's said anything, though."

"We have someone bringing us a map of the school," the officer tells her. "Your daughter's here?"

Emily nods. If she opens her mouth again, she's afraid a sob will come out.

She's suddenly aware that Penelope and JJ are on either side of her.

"We're sending in officers," JJ informs her. "The boy is in a hallway on the main floor. A student just called in from a classroom where she's hiding with several other students."

"Emily," Hotch says firmly, waiting for her to meet his eyes.

But hers are darting around, trying to see everything; hoping to see Her Everything.

"Emily," he says again.

She meets his eyes.

"We'll get her out," he vows.

She tries to make herself nod. She tries to make herself believe him.


	12. Chapter 12

Matthew's hand, gripping the door handle, starts to shake. Violet places her hands over top of his, hoping to steady them. They meet each other's eyes, passing their fear between them.

"You're not _sorry_," they hear Devon's angry voice. "You're just saying that because you've got a gun in your face!"

The response from the other boy is his crying.

"You and David have _always _thought you were such hot shit, strutting around and making everybody else's life _hell_!"

Violet feels like she can feel Devon's pain and anger, like wavelengths slipping through the door.

"But no more," Devon goes on. "_Do you hear me? No! More!_"

"I hear you, man," the kid replies. "I hear you! I'm sorry! I swear to god, I'm sorry."

Violet swallows, and her mouth tastes like pennies.

Is she supposed to stand here while Devon shoots this kid on the other side of a door?

She glances at Matthew but he's turned a worse shade of pale and he looks like he's about the throw up or pass out.

"It's too late for sorry," Devon's voice sounds monotonous and empty.

Violet hears him cock the gun.

Suddenly she's wrenching Matthew's hands off the door handle and then she's shoving him backwards behind the door as she swings it open, so he can't be seen. And she's put herself in full view of Devon.

* * *

"Have you tried to call her?" JJ asks.

"What if it's not on silent?" Emily replies, terrified and talking fast. "What if it makes noise and gives away her hiding spot? I can't. I can't call. I keep texting. But she stopped replying. Why would she stop replying?"

JJ places her hands over top of Emily's, looking her in the eye and speaking calmly and gently. "I'm sure she's fine. Look at me. Violet's a smart girl. I'm sure she's just hiding, and her phone died or something."

Emily chews her lip and starts to nod.

"They've got the team ready to go in," Hotch informs them.

"I'm going," Emily says firmly, starting for the doors.

"Emily," Hotch's sternness does nothing to deter her.

He catches up to her, walking beside her.

"Emily, you can't be in there," he says.

"Hotch," Emily begins. "Sir. With all due respect, you can't stop me. My little girl is in there."

"Emily," he says, for the third time, stepping in front of her so she's forced to stop. "I know you're scared. But you know you can't go in there."

"Aaron, listen to me," Emily says, her voice quiet because she knows she's close to tears; her eyes sparkle with them. "If you can stand there and tell me that if the situation were different, and Jack was inside that building, that you would just stay outside and do _nothing_, then I'll stay."

They have a silent conversation, looking at each other as Emily's chest pounds and Aaron's jaw clenches.

When he lets his stare drop, she knows she's won. She goes around him and keeps walking.

Derek jogs up beside her a moment later, handing her a vest.

"Put it on, Emily," he says firmly.

She grabs it, not even realizing she hadn't been wearing one — because when was the last time she was headed inside a hostile situation without one? — and continues walking.

She has her gun ready and at her side, and it's a testament to her strength that her hands are holding it steady.

* * *

Violet stares, meeting Devon's eyes.

They're not the eyes of a killer. They're not even the eyes of a bad guy.

They're the sad, broken eyes of a little boy who's terrified and furious.

He startles, seeing her, and Violet keeps part of her weight pressed against the door, so Matthew can't get out from behind it.

"Get back in there," Devon demands, after recovering from his surprise.

He points at the closet with one hand, keeping the gun pointed at the other boy.

"Devon, listen to me," Violet begins, her voice shaking slightly. She holds her hands up, trying to show that she's not going to do anything to him. "You don't have to do this."

Devon's chest is rising with the same speed as hers. She knows he's scared.

"You don't even know me," he retorts. "You've been at this school for like a month."

Violet improvises, going over the times she's caught a glimpse of Devon during that month.

"I know that you love Vonnegut," she blurts out. "You're always reading him. I love him, too. My mom got me reading him. I know you spend your lunch hours in the library. And I know you're really good at physics. Like, sickeningly good. I actually use your grades as my own sort of bar, for where I need to be. That probably sounds weird, but it's true. I'm weird, I guess."

She's talking quickly, but the more she talks, somehow she doesn't feel as shaky.

Devon is looking at her with confusion and surprise.

"So what?" he mutters after a second. "So fucking what? It's all over, now. All of it."

"No," Violet shakes her head, her fingers twisting together nervously. "It's not. It doesn't have to be."

Tears fill Devon's eyes and it makes Violet's throat sting.

"I…_killed _four people already," Devon says, his chin trembling as he struggles to maintain his tough persona.

"You don't know that," Violet says quietly. "They could still be alive."

A sob escapes Devon's mouth and his hands come up to his head. As soon as the boy sees that the gun isn't pointed at him anymore, he starts to back up, scrambling on his hands and feet.

"_Don't fucking move!_" Devon screams, and he pulls the trigger.

* * *

"We have another shot fired," comes a voice over a nearby officer's radio.

Emily is sure that her heart stops in its chamber. She speeds up, following the others.

She saw JJ point out the janitorial closets on a map of the school. There are two of them on the first floor. Emily's been to the school several times, but she doesn't know it off by heart.

Cars are starting to pull up at the school as parents arrive to get their children, no doubt receiving texts from their children. Several news vans are parked in the parking lot, and a helicopter circles above them.

Several officer's try to maintain control of the growing crowd as the police, and now the BAU, enter the school.

* * *

Violet covers her head and then looks up quickly.

Devon shot out one of the lights in the now dimmer hallway.

"I said, don't. Fucking. Move," he repeats.

The boy freezes, shaking on the floor and holding his hands up.

"Devon, please," Violet goes on. "Please. Put down the gun. I can help you get help."

"What?" Devon frowns. "What's a 14-year-old gonna do? You can't help me. Nobody can. Nobody ever tried to, and nobody ever will."

Adrenaline is keeping Violet on her feet and talking. Her entire body is poised for fight or flight, and she's fighting just to stay standing and talking. Matthew keeps trying to whisper her name, pushing against the door. He doesn't push hard, and after Violet shoves back against the door, hitting him hard in the forehead, he stops.

"You gotta let me try," Violet tells Devon.

"Why?" he demands, trying to steady his trembling chin. "Why should I do anything you say? Why should I do anything that _anybody _says?"

"Well, like you said," Violet replies, her fingers twisting together again so he doesn't see how badly her hands are shaking. "I'm new. I just got here. How do you know I wouldn't have been your friend, if I'd lived here?"

"You wouldn't have," he snaps.

"Dude, listen to her," the boy says.

It fuels Devon's rage. He turns back to the boy, taking several steps towards him and pointing the gun at him, only inches from his face.

"Shut! Up!" Devon screams. "I fucking hate you! Do you get that? You've ruined my life! _Ruined _it!"

The boy starts to cry and Violet feels like she's losing control of a situation she never had an actual grip on.

"Devon, look at me," Violet calls out.

His glare turns to see her.

"Get back in that closet," he says, his voice sounding deadly and quiet.

"No," Violet shakes her head. "Please. Just put the gun down."

"Violet. Get back in that closet," he repeats. "You don't need to watch this."

"It doesn't have to happen!" she pleas.

"Listen to me!" Devon screams, taking an angry few steps towards her and bringing the gun up to point near her.

He pulls the trigger and Violet feels a hot pain in her arm.


	13. Chapter 13

Violet is so stunned to see her own blood that she just stares at it for a second.

Devon shot at the floor and something ricocheted up and grazed Violet's arm. It's not pouring blood, but it's enough to make her start shaking again.

As soon as the gun went off, Matthew passed out. Violet can see his body behind her, out of Devon's eyeshot. She's almost glad that he fainted, so he doesn't have to remember this.

"Please," Devon pleads, tears streaking down his face as the hand with the gun comes up to press against his head. "Please get in the closet. I don't want to hurt you."

"I know," Violet replies, swallowing hard. "I know you don't want to hurt anybody."

"I want to hurt _him,_" Devon screams, pointing the gun again at the boy. "Like he's hurt me, for _years_!"

"Don't stoop to his level, Devon," Violet begs. "Please. Put the gun down."

She grips her arm, feeling the blood drip warm between her fingers.

"Devon Wallace," they hear.

All three kids turn to see several police officers and — making Violet's eyes fill — several members of the BAU.

"Put the gun down, man," Derek says calmly. "No one else has to get hurt."

"It's too late," Devon cries, his back against a wall of lockers. "I already did it. I killed them."

His eyes are streaming as he cries out.

"No," Derek replies, walking slowly towards them.

The boy Devon had been planning to shoot is pulled back and away by an officer.

Violet meets her mother's eyes. Emily's heart is breaking, seeing her daughter look so terrified and pale. She sees her gripping her arm, and she fears for the worst — that Violet was shot. It takes everything she has not to race over to Violet and grab her, running them both away from here. And Violet knows she can't run over to her mother, either. She knows she has to stay calm until Devon is disarmed.

"No one died, Devon," Derek goes on. "You hurt four people, yeah. But you can start to fix this right now, by putting down the gun."

"Fix this? How can I ever fix this? How can anything ever be fixed?" Devon demands, sobbing.

"You gotta trust me, man," Derek tells him.

Devon sobs, covering his face and nearly falling to his knees. But as soon as people start moving towards him he jumps up again and points the gun.

"Don't come near me!" he screams.

"Devon," Derek repeats, his tone getting sterner. "Put down the gun."

Devon moves his arm, and Violet realizes he's going to point it at himself.

"No!" she cries, about to move towards him.

A shot is fired and Violet watches Devon fall to the ground.

She stares in horror and then suddenly her mother's arms are around her. Her eyes search the ground and she sees Devon's gun on the ground, and the gunshot wound bleeding in his bicep. Derek shot him in the arm.

Suddenly Violet's vision gets blurry. She thinks it's the tears, and she can feel her mother take her face in her palms. She sees her mother's face in front of hers, tears streaming down her cheeks as she says Violet's name, and then Violet can't hold on any longer and she's falling.

Derek leaves Devon for the other guys. He looks up to see Emily wrap her arms around her daughter, and then watches as Violet blacks out. She falls into Emily and Derek races over and lifts Violet into his arms.

"She's bleeding," Emily cries. "Her arm, her right arm. It's bleeding."

"I got her," Derek promises.

He carries Violet in his arms, hurrying outside with Emily at his side.

Her heart hasn't stopped pounding. The immense relief she felt at seeing Violet alive was quickly trampled by the sight of her sickly pale daughter, bleeding profusely and standing before an armed teenager.

"She's okay, she's okay," she murmurs through her tears, to no one.

"She's okay," Derek repeats, thinking that Emily needs to hear someone else say it.

They get outside and an officer rushes over, ushering them over to an ambulance.

"Fourteen-year-old female," Derek tells the paramedic. "She lost consciousness, and she's bleeding from her right arm."

He lies her on a gurney and two paramedics get to work as Emily grips Violet's hand, refusing to budge even an inch.

"It looks to be a ricochet," one of them announces, and Emily's chest swells with relief. "The bullet didn't enter her arm."

"Emily!"

Emily barely glances up to see the rest of the team rush over.

"Oh my god," Penelope breathes, tears filling her eyes.

"She caught a ricochet," Derek tells her. "Then she passed out."

The team starts to talk but Emily hears nothing. She only sees her daughter, unconscious and being worked on by paramedics. She hears nothing except the pounding of her own heart in her ears.

They start to load Violet's gurney into the ambulance and Emily climbs in, never once letting go of Violet's hand.

"We'll meet you there, Emily," JJ calls out, but Emily just stares at Violet.

* * *

"It looks worse than it is," the doctor tells Emily. "The ricochet went deep, but it didn't reach the bone. It'll be sore, but she's going to be just fine."

Emily nods, glancing down at Violet, now sedated.

"What we need to worry about is shock," the doctor goes on. "Someone from psych will be up to see her when she wakes up."

"Thank you," Emily says, her voice not her own.

The doctor nods. "I'll be back as soon as I check up on the others."

Emily sits down in the chair pulled up to the bed, taking Violet's hand in both of hers. She presses it to her mouth.

Her heart has finally stopped pounding, but she stills feels like she's vibrating.

Violet's been at the hospital for an hour. She hasn't woken up yet, but the sedative is wearing off.

The four kids who were shot in the gymnasium are all alive, though one of them suffered a wound to her spine and might be paralyzed.

Emily strokes Violet's hair away from her forehead, now used to looking through swimming eyes.

When the long, thick lashes that Violet inherited from her mother start to move, Emily freezes.

As soon as she catches a glimpse of Violet's dark green eyes, she blinks quickly to try and make the tears disappear. She only ever wants Violet to see her strong.

"Baby, I'm here," she says softly, running her thumb over the top of Violet's hand. "It's Mommy. I'm here."

Violet groggily moves her eyes, locking them on her mother's.

Slowly, it all comes back to her. The last thing she remembers is seeing her mother, and that emotion is the first one that fills her. Immediately her eyes fill and tears slip out, sliding down her temple as she turns her head.

"Mommy," she whispers, and begins to cry.


	14. Chapter 14

"Violet?" Dr. Saunders says gently.

From the chair by the window, Violet continues to chew her lip. All she sees when she closes her eyes is the empty look in Devon's eyes; the crying boy on the floor; the gun pointed at her and the sound it made when it went off; and the way Matthew had shaken and passed out in front of her.

Finally she turns her head to glance at the pretty, curly-haired doctor.

"Is Matthew alright?" she murmurs, ignoring the doctor's question. She can't even remember what it was.

Dr. Saunder's doesn't even have to look at Violet's file. She already read it and she's memorized everything it says; everything that happened to Violet last night, and most of her life beforehand.

"Yes, he's alright," she replies. "Pretty shaken up, but he's going to be just fine. Would you like to see him?"

"He's here?" Violet asks. Her voice has taken on a permanent melancholy.

"No, but I could have your mom call and arrange something."

Violet considers this. Still chewing her bottom lip, she slowly nods.

"Yes, please," she replies.

Dr. Saunders nods, jotting something down on her pad of paper.

"How do you feel about going home, honey," she asks Violet again.

"I don't want to be in this hospital anymore," Violet mumbles. "I want to be at home."

She wishes her mother were in here, but the doctor had asked to speak with Violet alone so Emily hesitantly let herself be dragged down to the cafeteria with Penelope and JJ.

"I just don't want to be out there," Violet adds in a quieter voice, staring outside.

* * *

Emily picks at her fingernails, letting the cup of coffee sit untouched on the table in front of her.

"Emily, you're asleep on your feet," JJ says gently. "You need to drink this, or go lie down."

"I will," Emily replies. "As soon as I get Violet home."

"No, you won't," JJ tilts her head. "You'll sit up and watch _her _sleep."

Emily exhales, letting her head drop into her hands. She feels like there's sand in her eyelids and like she can't keep her eyes fully open.

"She's never going to be the same," she murmurs, her eyes threatening to fill.

"She is going to be fine," Penelope says firmly, taking Emily's hands in hers. "We're all here for her, and for you. Whatever it takes."

Emily tries to smile, but fails.

"You guys have been so amazing," she tells them. "I just bombarded into your lives and made a mess of everything, and now my daughter's upstairs talking to a shrink because she's —"

She bites off before she says anything, covering her mouth and then her face.

JJ and Penelope squeeze her hand comfortingly.

"You have done nothing of the sort," Penelope tells her. "Now let's just take this one day at a time. Everything — and everyone — is going to be okay. I promise."

* * *

Back upstairs, Emily approaches Violet's room. Dr. Saunders is still in there, talking to Violet, but Emily can't be patient anymore. She knocks briefly and walks in.

"Hey," she says quietly, her eyes on Violet.

"Ms Prentiss," Dr. Saunders smiles, standing up. "Violet and I were just finishing up."

"I can take her home?"

"Yes," Dr. Saunders nods, tearing a script from her pad. "I've prescribed Violet a mild sedative, just to help her sleep."

Emily nods, taking the prescription, and Dr. Saunders gently leads her outside. Violet goes back to staring out the window.

"I'd like to see Violet again," Dr. Saunders tells her. "It's going to be difficult to get her going for a little while, so I'd like your permission to do a couple of home visits first."

"You'll do that?" Emily raises her brow a little, feeling relieved.

"Of course," Dr. Saunders replies kindly. "After a traumatizing event like this, you're going to find that Violet doesn't want to leave where she feels safe. And that's obviously her home, with you. She might have a hard time being by herself, and I think we both know she's going to have some sleeping issues."

Emily nods slowly, swallowing.

This morning, after Violet had fallen back asleep after waking up that first time and seeing Emily, she's woken up screaming and crying.

She looks through the window into the room, seeing Violet, lost in her thoughts.

"She's going to be okay, Emily," Dr. Saunders says gently, touching Emily's arm. "I know this is terrifying, when it's your child, but Violet's a very brave, very strong girl. I think she has you to thank for a lot of that, and I know she's going to pull through this. All she needs is love and patience."

Emily nods again, managing a small smile.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call," Dr. Saunders adds, handing Emily her card.

"Thank you," Emily says, frowning through the tightness in her throat.

Dr. Saunders smiles warmly and walks away.

Emily stares into the hospital room, watching Violet. Then she takes a deep breath and walks inside.

* * *

"Come on, baby," Emily encourages gently. "I've got you."

Violet glances at her mother and then back in front of her, to where the sliding doors lead to the outside. She's been chewing her lip almost constantly but Emily won't say anything about it. Not yet.

She gives Violet's hand another squeeze. Violet inhales quietly, battling her own thoughts.

_Just move_, she tells herself. _Don't be such a spaz. _

Once she moves one foot, the other just seems to follow. Emily wraps her arm around her daughter and guides her towards the car.

* * *

"Should we stop for anything? I'm sure Garcia has our entire house stocked with every last thing you love, but if you want a slushie or something…" Emily asks.

"Mm mm," Violet shakes her head.

Emily glances at her hands and sees her twisting her fingers. She picked this habit up when she was only three or four, and would see Emily picking at her own fingernails. Emily's glad Violet was too young to see the picking part, and only thought her mother was twisting around her fingers. Violet's long fingers are beautiful and undamaged, the way Emily wishes her own were.

"Matthew's mother called me," Emily offers.

Violet's eyes finally meet hers.

"He was wanting to come see you this afternoon," she tells her. "Would you be up for that?"

"Yeah," Violet replies softly. "Yeah, I wanna see him."

"Okay," Emily nods.

Violet goes back to staring out the window.

"And Reid was hoping you'd be up for some chess," Emily adds.

"When?" Violet asks, not looking at her.

"Whenever you want, honey."

Violet just nods in silence.

* * *

At home, Emily can feel Violet's tension as she waits for Emily to unlock and open the front door. She moves as quickly as she can.

Inside, she's not at all surprised to see a huge bouquet of violets on the island and a note from Garcia and JJ.

"I think you have a fan club, honey," Emily says.

But Violet goes straight upstairs to her room. Emily follows her and finds her in bed, covered in more blankets than she ever uses.

Wordlessly, she crawls in beside her and curls her body around her daughter's.


	15. Chapter 15

"She's fine, Mother," Emily says into the phone, as she watches Violet sleep on the couch.

"Fine?" comes Elizabeth Prentiss's unimpressed tone. "She was held at gunpoint by a teenager, Emily. She is not _fine_."

"She wasn't 'held at gunpoint'," Emily retorts.

She told her mother everything she knew, from what she heard from Matthew, Devon, and Braden, the boy on the floor. She hasn't gotten Violet to tell her much of anything, and it's been two days.

"I'm coming there," Elizabeth states.

"No, stay in Europe," Emily replies.

She's never been the kind of daughter that "needed" her mother. She's never been clingy.

"Emily, we're talking about Violet's wellbeing here," Elizabeth says.

"I know, Mother, and I'm on top of it," Emily says, getting frustrated.

"Do you have a doctor coming to the house? Have you even see the doctor I arranged for you two?"

"Yes, I have a doctor coming to the house, and no, we haven't seen Dr. Brooks. We saw a really great pediatrician at the hospital. Violet likes her."

"Who is she?"

"Rachel Saunders," Emily rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"How long has she been practicing?"

"I don't know, Mother, I didn't get her social security number and email password," Emily snaps. "Look. I have to go."

"I want to speak to Violet."

"She's still sleeping."

"Emily, I've called several times a day for the past two days, and she's been sleeping every time."

"Then how about I have Violet call you back instead?" Emily retorts.

She hears her mother exhale.

"I'm worried about her," Elizabeth's voice softens.

Emily swallows, staring at the floor. She's had tears right at the back of her eyes constantly since finally getting Violet into her arms at the school that night.

"So am I. But she's going to be fine," Emily replies slowly.

Elizabeth sighs. "Please do have her call me."

"I will," Emily answers.

"Alright," Elizabeth says. "Goodbye, dear."

"Bye," Emily murmurs and hangs up.

She walks over to the couch and bends down, so she's face to face with Violet. Emily can see now that she's not actually asleep.

"Hey," she says softly.

The green eyes open to meet hers.

"I need you to eat something," Emily says, gently but firmly.

Violet starts to chew her lip. After a moment she nods slowly, so Emily kisses her forehead and goes back to the kitchen.

Violet doesn't get up, but she sits up, still wrapped in a quilt. A few moments later Emily brings her the smoothie she'd made earlier.

"Dr. Saunders is coming by in an hour, remember?"

Violet nods, sipping the smoothie.

"And Matthew tonight."

"I know," Violet replies, so quiet.

Emily wishes she could beg Violet to tell her everything about that night, but she's asked twice and both times Violet clammed up and had gotten visibly anxious.

Several minutes pass as actors talk on the TV but neither of them is listening.

Violet wants to tell her mom everything, but remembering it makes her chest feel fluttery and fast, and then she feels sick. It's everything she needs at the moment just to have her mother beside her.

* * *

"How's her appetite?" Dr. Saunders asks, as she Emily and stand in the kitchen.

"What appetite?" Emily replies. "In the last two days I've gotten a smoothie, two oranges, and some yogurt into her."

"That's better than nothing," Dr. Saunders assures her. "Sleep?"

"She sleeps," Emily nods. "Maybe too much. Although some of the time, I don't think she's actually sleeping. She just kind of...lies there."

Rachel Saunders nods, looking over at Violet, who's still wrapped in a quilt on the couch.

"You're doing everything you can," Rachel assures Emily. "Don't start thinking you're not."

Emily nods, licking her lips. "Yeah," she mumbles.

Rachel smiles warmly and touches Emily's arm.

"Trust me," she says.

Emily smiles a little before Dr. Saunders walks over to the living room.

"Hi, Violet," she smiles, sitting directly across from her on the sectional couch. "How are you feeling today?"

"Okay," Violet answers in a mumble.

Emily wants Violet to talk, and she knows sometimes that can easier without a mother in the room, as much as she hates it. So she wanders upstairs to give the doctor and Violet some time.

About half an hour later, Emily jerks awake. She can't believe she fell asleep. Confused, she sits up and looks around wondering what woke her up.

Then she hears the painful sound of Violet sobbing.

"I felt everything, all at once," Violet cries. "I felt Matthew shaking, and I felt how scared he was, and then I felt Devon, like I could feel through the door all of this pain and anger. And then when I saw his face and looked in his eyes, I felt like I couldn't breathe. So I just started talking to him. I don't even remember what I said because I was so scared. I felt like any second, the gun was going to go off and kill Braden, or Matthew, and maybe even me, and I didn't know what to do. I just didn't know what else to do."

Emily doesn't hesitate. Halfway through this burst of pain from Violet, Emily is hurrying for the stairs. She reaches the living room just as Violet is finishing talking. She leans forward, covering her face as sobs start to wrack her body. And Emily is right there, climbing onto the couch beside her and pulling her daughter into her arms. The force of Violet's sobs grows and Emily can feel the deluge of tears against her skin. She doesn't even feel herself start to cry, or know whose tears are whose.

Dr. Saunders quietly gets up and goes into the kitchen, giving Emily and Violet some time.

It takes at least half an hour for Violet to calm down; for her breathing to regulate and her eyes to stop flowing.

Emily just holds her, wishing she could absorb all of Violet's pain and make it disappear. But she's glad that Violet is finally talking.

Eventually, Dr. Saunders comes back into the living room, gently talking to Violet.

* * *

Emily opens the door several hours later to reveal Matthew and his mother.

She's never met his mother before. She'd only heard the stories from Violet about how she wasn't very accepting of Matthew's choices. She finds this kind of difficult to understand. She can't imagine not thinking that Violet was the amazing person that she is, or thinking less of her own child just because of her orientation.

"Hi honey," Emily smiles, embracing Matthew.

"Hey Emily," Matthew replies.

He immediately loved Emily after meeting her almost a month ago, and she insisted that he call her Emily and not Ms Prentiss.

"You must be Mrs. Sanders," Emily shakes the woman's hand.

"Yes," Cheryl Sanders smiles politely. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too," Emily nods, and then looks at Matthew. "Vi's in the living room."

Matthew smiles and heads inside.

"I was hoping we'd see you at the hospital...that night," Cheryl says to Emily. "I want to thank you, for everything you did."

Emily frowns. "I didn't..." she begins.

"You were there," Cheryl interrupts. "You made sure Matthew was taken care of."

She shifts uncomfortably.

"You've been wonderful to him," she goes on. "I know he's just crazy about you and Violet. I haven't been the...greatest mother. And I can see where I've been...lacking. But all of this, it just makes you...think. Makes you realize what's important. I may not completely understand my son, but I do love him."

Her watering brown eyes meet Emily's.

"I love my son."

"Of course," Emily nods, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Thank you," Cheryl says firmly, grasping Emily's hand in both of hers. "For everything."

Emily tries to smile.

"I'd love to meet Violet, but I'm sure she's not up for new visitors right now," Cheryl says, taking a step backwards. "So, another time. I'll be back for Matthew a little later."

"Alright," Emily nods.

She closes the door, thinking of everything the woman just said, and turns to see Violet and Matthew in the living room.

Seated next to each other on the couch, the two friends hug each other as they cry.

A little while later, Emily is seated with them on the couch.

"I...feel like I can only remember parts of it," Matthew says, curled into the couch. "Then it gets really hazy after you nailed me with that door."

"I didn't know what to do," Violet shakes her head. "I didn't want Devon to see you, too."

"Okay, well, I get why you did it, Vi. I mean, I would do the same thing, I think. But you just threw yourself in front of him. You could have been..." he bites his bottom lip, refusing to say the words.

"I'm sorry I hit you with the door," Violet says softly, glancing up at Matthew's forehead.

"Yeah, look at it," Matthew says, more of his usual emphatic personality showing. "I have a freaking goose egg on my forehead. And it's purple."

Emily frowns, feeling bad.

"Don't feel bad," Matthew insists, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "You probably saved my life. And I mean, Jesus Christ, Vi. You're pretty strong. I mean, I've got a few inches on you and you're like, 100 pounds soaking wet. How'd you even get that much force behind you?"

"Karate," Emily replies. "Kickboxing. Impenetrable stubbornness."

"I'll say," Matthew says, gingerly touching his forehead.

One side of Violet's mouth starts to curl up, into a sort of half smile. Emily stares. She was scared that she wouldn't see that again for a very long time.

"I wish I liked any kind of exercise, but I'm just not that type of person," Matthew says, holding his hands up. "So you are officially my bodyguard."

"Sure," Violet lets out a sort of breathy laugh.

Matthew smiles, seeing her laugh, and it gets quiet for a moment.

"And thank you," he says, his usual tone replaced with a quiet, serious one. "Really, Vi. You saved my life."

"No I didn't," Violet almost whispers, looking at her fingers as she picks at them.

Matthew covers her hands with his so she's forced to stop fidgeting and look at him.

"Thank you," he repeats, looking at her.

Violet looks at his blue eyes as they fill.

All she can manage is a slight nod, but it's enough for Matthew, and he wraps his arms around her.


	16. Chapter 16

It's been two weeks since the shooting.

Emily is doing her best to get Violet out of the house, but it's still a challenge. Somedays she goes to work with Emily, spending her days at one of the desks near her mother's or hanging out with Penelope while the BAU is working.

The school is opening again on Monday, but Violet refuses to go.

* * *

"Hey," JJ smiles as Emily and Violet walk in on Monday morning. "How was your weekend?"

"Good," Emily smiles, her arm around her daughter. "How about you?"

"Surprisingly relaxing," JJ replies, and then looks at her phone. After a moment she clicks it back off.

Emily, and the rest of the team have a sneaking suspicion that she's seeing somebody, but she hasn't brought it up so neither do they.

"I've gotta go over some potential cases," JJ says, heading towards her office. "I'll see you two in a bit."

Emily sets her bag down on her desk as Violet sits down at the empty one across from hers. She gets out the homework that Emily picked up for her from school.

"That should take you what, an hour?" Emily teases.

Violet manages a small smile and opens a textbook.

Emily knows Violet is strong, she just wishes she could make all of her pain and anxiety disappear.

"Hey you two," Derek grins, arriving at work.

"Hey," Emily and Violet reply in unison.

"You look pretty happy," Emily observes. "Somebody have a date this weekend?"

"Maybe," Derek grins, taking off his jacket and draping it over his chair. "Why, you jealous?"

"Oh, yes," Emily replies, rolling her eyes. "It's tearing me up inside."

"Yeah? Maybe I should take you out," Derek plays along.

"I'll pass," Emily laughs.

"Whoa," Derek raises an eyebrow. "That's cold."

"And warranted," Violet speaks up, her voice still quieter than normal.

Derek places a hand on his chest, looking offended. "You got your Mini Me to play this game with you?"

"Oh, no," Emily replies easily, taking off her jacket and straightening her shirt. "She just has great taste in men."

She laughs as Derek pretends to be hurt and Violet wrinkles her nose.

"I heard it as soon as I said," Emily says, placing her hands on Violet's shoulders. "I take it back. Never start dating."

She kisses the top of her head as Reid arrives.

"Hey, Violet," he says, putting down his stuff and digging through his bag. "I found that book I was telling you about."

Emily, so nervous and careful around her new coworkers at first, is now just extremely grateful to have them. They've been nothing but supportive and loving towards she and Violet since they arrived.

Reid pulls a worn copy of a book out of his bag and hands it to Violet.

"If you like Wordsworth, you'll love this," he says, sitting in his chair.

"Thanks Spencer," Violet smiles.

"I flagged a couple of pages for you, too."

"Cool," Violet replies, opening the book and ignoring the math in front of her.

"What's on the agenda today, V?" Derek asks, sitting on the desk and peering down at the textbook.

"Sadism in number form," Violet replies.

"Yeah I never liked math either," he answers. "I sucked at it."

"Past tense?" Emily teases.

He just makes a face and laughs along with her.

"Oo, what kind of math?" Spencer asks, instantly intrigued.

"No, no, no," Emily points at him. "Don't even think of doing it for her. I like my child to think for herself."

"Well I wasn't about to give her the answers," Spencer replies, already reading Violet's textbook. "Besides, I'm sure algebra is a piece of cake for you, Vi."

"It's fine," Violet sighs. "If you're offering to do my homework, I'll rain check your offer until next year when physics arrives."

"Hey," Emily says, nudging Violet.

"I'm kidding, Mother," Violet replies. "Obviously."

"Please don't call me 'mother,'" Emily wrinkles her nose. "It sounds so…"

"Like you, talking to Grandma?" Violet offers.

"Very funny," Emily says, reaching to tickle her.

Violet jumps, avoiding her fingers, and offers her mother a genuine smile.

"Alright, guys," JJ announces from outside her office. "We've got work to do."

The rest of the team gets up. Emily kisses Violet, and Derek and Spencer give her shoulder a squeeze as they head into the meeting room.

* * *

"Three women have been killed in Ohio in the last three days," JJ begins, handing out files as Penelope works the computer. "All three were strangled. No sign of sexual assault, and all three women were placed in shallow graves, but weren't buried."

Pictures appear on the screen.

"He placed all three women with their hands folded," Derek notices. "Sign of remorse from the killer."

"We also have this picture," JJ adds, and a blurry photo of the profile of a man appears. "He purchased several items from a hardware store in Fairborn, Ohio, where all three women were from."

"Is he our killer?" Emily asks.

"All signs point to yes," JJ answers. "But this is the best picture we've got."

"We need to talk to the people who were working at that store," Hotch says. "Let's find this guy before our death toll rises to four."

* * *

The small town of Fairborn has a creepy feeling to it. Emily can feel eyes on her as the team arrives at the police station. They're shown to a room where they can work before Hotch divides the team into groups to check out the store and the crime scenes. Emily and Derek head out to the hardware store.

"He had a hat on, real low, like," Jared, the guy who was working during the killer's trip to the store, tells them. "Couldn't really see his face."

"Could you tell his hair colour? Height? Anything?" Emily prods.

"Uh," Jared thinks. "He was about six feet, I guess. Scruffy. Red beard, though. The rest of his hair was just brown."

"What kind of hat was he wearing?"

The video and photo they have shows only the grainy image of a dark hat. Even Penelope couldn't figure out the worn-off image on it.

"I dunno, man," Jared replies. "It was real old. I didn't really look at it."

"And he paid with cash?" Emily asks.

"Yeah," Jared nods. "Nothin' big, neither. Fives and ones."

"How much did he spend?"

"Well, alls he bought was a shovel and a pair of gloves. And some rope. I think it was less than $40, but he paid with a stack of small bills."

"Any tattoos? Scars?"

Jared thinks, but then shakes his head.

"I really don't remember. Sorry," he replies.

They ask a few more questions and then wander around the store before heading back to the station.

* * *

"Hey you," Penelope grins.

Violet looks up from her homework.

"Hey," she replies, a small smile appearing.

"Wanna come have lunch with me in my lair?" she asks, singing the word 'lair.'

Violet has to smile genuinely now—Penelope has that effect on people.

"Sure," she agrees.

Violet likes Penelope's office. There are more monitors that she thought one person could need, and Penelope knows of so many cool websites that Violet didn't even know existed.

"Should we look up Michael Fassbender's phone number?" Penelope grins, as she and Violet sit down.

"Don't tempt me," Violet replies.

Fassbender is her celebrity crush.

They start to eat, but Violet still only picks at food.

"Have you seen Matthew much?" Penelope asks.

"A bit," Violet replies. "He came over on Saturday. We just watched movies and played cards."

"How's he holding up?"

Sometimes Penelope can get Violet to talk more if she avoids asking her direct questions about herself.

"He's good," Violet answers. "He was having nightmares for a bit, but…I think he's a lot better. And his mom's totally different now."

"That's good," Penelope nods. "It must be nice for him to have her be there for him."

"Yeah. I don't know why she couldn't just do that before. I don't get why it has to take someone almost dying for some people to change."

Penelope observes Violet. She may have only known Violet for a little while so far, but she pays enough attention to her to know a lot about her. Like that she fidgets with her fingers — just like her mother. Except Violet just wrings them and curls them together instead of chewing on them like Emily does. Violet chews her lip instead. Or that the heaviness of the shooting has shrunken Violet's voice, and it's only now starting to return to its regular volume. She knows that when Violet's upset, she won't eat. Penelope's been known to take to her couch with a pint of ice cream when she's upset, but Violet is the opposite. Penelope can tell that she's lost weight over the past two weeks, but she doesn't say anything about it. She just makes sure that she always has Violet's favourite candies around to offer her.

And she knows that loud noises startle her. Before, if someone slammed a door or dropped something, Violet wouldn't flinch. She'd just turn to see what it was. Now, she jumps and her tension is visible at the slightest loud noise.

"I don't get it either," Penelope agrees. "I wouldn't care whether my kid was straight, gay, Republican, or hated computers! I'd still love them."

Violet grins.

"Yeah, me too. I guess Mom never really had that struggle with me."

"Honey, your mom has never had to think twice about loving you to pieces."

"I know, I just mean that we're a lot alike. I'm not super different or anything. I mean, I am. Kids always seem to think I'm weird or something. And... Well…I'm not as strong as Mom is."

"What? Are you kidding me?" Penelope asks.

Violet chews her lip, glancing at Penelope.

"Sweetie, you're the strongest non-adult I've ever met," Penelope reaches over and squeezes Violet's hand. "Don't ever doubt that."

Violet almost smiles, but seems to be thinking about something.

Just then, Kevin Lynch, another tech in a different unit, bursts through the door. The noise and the speed makes Violet jump so rigidly that she upends the bottle of water that was near her arm. It falls to the floor, unnoticed by Penelope, who immediately gets up and faces Kevin.

"Oh," Kevin stares. "Sorry. I thought you were alone."

"Can it wait?" Penelope demands, glancing at Violet.

Kevin, aware of Violet's recent happenings, just nods and apologizes before leaving.

"You okay?" Penelope asks, softening her voice as she moves slowly towards Violet.

Violet's shoulders are so tense, Penelope can already tell they're pinched together tightly. Her fists are clenched at her sides as she stands a step away from her chair.

"It's alright," Penelope assures her, as she reaches Violet and slowly puts her arms around her. "It's alright."

She speaks quietly, rubbing Violet's back until she feels the tension start to dispel.

"I'm sorry," Violet whispers, her face buried in Penelope's shoulder.

"Don't be sorry, sweetie," Penelope replies soothingly. "Don't be sorry."


	17. Chapter 17

A fourth person has gone missing in Fairborn, Ohio. It sends the team into overdrive as they work to find the man responsible, and hopefully before he has the chance to kill the woman he kidnapped.

That afternoon, a woman comes into the station and says she has a tip.

"I don't know if it's him for sure or anything," she shrugs. "But his name is Michael Thornton."

"How do you know him?" Derek asks.

"We used to date, a few years ago," the woman replies.

"Do you think he's capable of this?" Emily inquires.

The woman shrugs. "I don't know, I mean, he was always a little short-tempered. Sometimes he'd get in these moods and you couldn't even talk to him. He would just yell and slam things. He had issues, about his dad and stuff."

The BAU waits for her to go on.

"He was adopted, but his father decided the whole parenthood thing wasn't for him. He left when Michael was four. And his mom died when he was 17. I don't think Michael ever got over it."

Aaron tells Emily and Derek to go talk to Michael Thornton, so they head out towards his home.

* * *

They're a little surprised to find a handsome man answering the door.

"Hello," he says, a little confused.

"I'm Agent Morgan and this is Agent Prentiss. We're with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a couple of questions," Derek says.

The man opens his door and gestures for them to come in.

"Mr. Thornton, where were you this morning around 10:00?" Emily asks.

He takes a breath, looking almost ashamed, which only makes Derek and Emily more suspicious.

"I was at a doctor's appointment," he replies, glancing down at the carpet.

"Can you verify that?"

"You can call my doctor," Michael replies. "What's this about?"

"Mr. Thornton, are you aware that four women have gone missing in the last few days, and three of them have turned up dead?"

Michael's eyes widen. "Uh, yeah, I mean, I saw it on the news. What does it have to do with me?"

Emily holds up the grainy picture from the hardware store.

"Is this you, Mr. Thornton?"

"No," he replies, staring at it. "I don't have a beard."

"Maybe you shaved," Derek replies easily.

"Well, yeah. I shave a couple times a week. I've never had a beard."

Emily stays near Michael while Derek goes to phone the doctor that Michael says he saw this morning.

He's back in a few moments.

"Doctor's office confirmed that he was there," Derek replies, walking over to them.

"You guys think I did this?" Michael frowns.

"This does look an awful lot like you," Emily replies, holding up the picture again.

"I think it might look like a lot of guys," Michael replies. "Tall, bearded, and with a baseball hat pulled down low? Come on. I didn't kill anybody. I wouldn't."

"We understand that you have quite a temper," Emily says.

"One that helped end a relationship that you were in?" Derek adds.

Michael sighs, running a hand over his forehead.

"Jesus," he breathes, and then resumes his normal tone of voice. "Look, I did have an anger problem. But I'm working on it. That's what the doctor is for."

Emily tilts her head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

"He's my shrink," Michael confesses. "I see him three days a week. I did have an anger problem, but I'm not that guy anymore. I'm doing whatever it takes for me to live a normal life."

Emily and Derek consider the man and glance at each other. They have a silent conversation.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Thornton," Derek holds out his hand.

Michael shakes it.

"You're welcome," he replies quietly, walking them to the door.

* * *

"He's telling the truth," Emily says in the car, on their way back to the station.

"Yep," Derek agrees. "Which means we're back at square one."

* * *

Back at the station, Emily takes a minute to call Violet.

"Hey, honey," she says. "How's your day going?"

"Good," Violet replies. "Finished my homework and stuff, so I'm just reading. What time will you be back?"

"I'm not sure, honey. We're kind of back at square one with this one."

"Mmm," Violet mumbles.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Violet replies. "I just wanna go home, but…"

But she doesn't want to go alone, Emily knows.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, baby," Emily promises. "And maybe we should talk again about getting someone to stay at the house with you while I'm at work."

"I'm not getting a babysitter, Mom," Violet replies, rolling her eyes.

"Not a babysitter, just someone to hang out," Emily corrects her.

"No," Violet replies. "Not a chance."

Emily exhales.

"Okay, Vi. Your call," she says. "Are you gonna hang out with Penelope tonight then?"

"Yeah," Violet answers. "I was in there for a while, but when she's working I feel like I'm in the way."

"I'm sure that's not the case, honey. But I don't want you seeing some of the stuff that she does."

"Yeah, I've seen enough dead bodies," Violet replies.

Emily presses her lips together. She looks up and sees Hotch gesturing for her to join them in the room.

"I love you, baby," she says into the phone.

"Love you, too," Violet replies. "Hope you catch the guy."

"Oh, we will," Emily vows. "I'll talk to you soon."

"'K," Violet nods slowly. "Be careful."

"Always," Emily promises.

* * *

The station got another tip. A woman called in and said that her ex-husband looks exactly like the picture. That he had rage issues, and that's what drove their marriage apart, and that she was actually scared of him hurting her. The man's name is Marcus Quick.

Emily and Derek head out to see this guy. He lives in Dayton, Ohio, which is about 20 minutes away.

"How's Vi doing today?" Derek asks.

"Fine," Emily sighs. "I was thinking I'd find someone, like a college student or something, to just be at the house with her sometimes, but she shut that idea down fast."

"A babysitter?" Derek asks, looking amused.

"No, just someone for her to hang out with when I can't be there," Emily replies.

"A glorified babysitter," Derek replies.

He laughs when she looks offended.

"Come on, Emily," Derek says. "Vi doesn't need a babysitter. She just needs to get her confidence back. And she will."

"Well it makes me feel like a terrible mother to get back from work and find her asleep on Hotch's office couch."

"Hey," Derek says, his tone serious now. "Everything with Vi is going to be fine. It's not going to be like this forever. Vi's a strong, smart kid. She'll pull through this."

"I know," Emily replies quietly, looking out the window as they drive down the highway. "I just feel like shit about all of it right now."

"Understandably," Derek nods. "There's no guidebook for parenting. Especially after your kid goes through something like Violet did."

They're quiet for a moment and then Derek's phone rings.

"You're on speaker, baby girl," he answers.

"Okay, I've got information on Marcus Quick. Sending to your phones right now. You guys are heading towards the Hulk. This guy's been charged with domestic abuse several times. Court-ordered anger management classes twice. He's just a ball of rage. He lost his parents in a car accident when he was 17, but records show that he's been a bit of an angerball his entire life."

"Thanks Garcia," Emily says.

"No problem," Penelope replies. "How's Vi doing?"

Emily frowns. "Fine. Why?"

Penelope's in the same building as Violet. Shouldn't she know?

"Oh," Penelope pauses. She'd thought Violet would have maybe told her mother about her scare. "Kevin barged into my office, and just startled her. I just felt really bad. She's so jumpy lately."

"I know," Emily replies quietly. "She didn't mention it, so she's probably okay."

"Well I will make sure that she stays busy. She can always come and hang out with Auntie Penelope."

Emily and Derek exchange amused smiles.

"You're the best, Garcia," Emily says.

They hang up and Emily touches her phone to open the files that Garcia sent them.

"Holy shit," she breathes after a moment.

"What?" Derek demands.

Emily stares at the phone and then holds it up for Derek to see.

"This," Emily says, "is Marcus Quick."


	18. Chapter 18

"How is that possible?" Derek stares for a second before remembering to look back at the road.

Emily just stares at the screen.

Marcus Quick looks almost identical to Michael Thornton. Quick has the beard from the photo, but their faces are the same, right down to the orange ring around their pupils, making their blue eyes pop.

"I'll call Garcia back," Emily says, dialling her phone.

"Queen Penelope, at your service."

"Hey Garcia, can you do a facial compare of Michael Thornton and Marcus Quick?"

"Sure," she replies. "Oh."

She stares at the two photos on her screen, realizing what Emily and Derek just did.

"Yeah," Emily says. "Weird, right?"

"Yeah," Penelope agrees. "I mean, I know they say that everyone has a doppelgänger out there, but this is weird."

"Let us know what you find," Derek says. "We're just arriving at Quick's house now."

"Please be careful," Penelope warns. "Remember what I said about him being the Hulk."

"Don't worry, baby girl," Derek replies.

Moments later they approach the unkempt porch of Marcus Quick. The grass isn't cut and there's old junk all over the porch. They knock and wait.

Finally, the door opens a little bit and they see Marcus Quick. Only he looks exactly like Michael Thornton.

"Marcus Quick?" Derek says, as he and Emily flip their badges open. "We're agents Morgan and Prentiss with the FBI."

Suddenly Marcus tries to slam the door shut, but Derek is fast and he shoves himself forward, making it impossible for Marcus to close the door. He turns around and starts to run, with Derek and Emily at his heels.

He races through the house and out the back door, jumping the short railing of the back steps and hitting the ground. He's up and running just as Derek hits the ground after him.

He bolts through the tall grass, heading back towards the fields behind his house. Derek is right on his heels, and Emily is close behind him. Marcus may know those fields like the back of his hand, but Derek can run, and he's gaining on Marcus fast.

He's almost hitting Marcus's feet, he's so close to him. He times their leg movements and a second later, Derek lunges towards Marcus, tackling him to the ground.

Emily arrives, breathless, as Derek is struggling with the man.

"Cool it, man!" Derek yells, pinning Marcus's arms behind his back.

Emily stands in front of him so he sees her with her gun in his direction.

Derek cuffs him and they start walking back to the house.

"I'm going inside to look around," she tells Derek.

"That's trespassing," Marcus spits.

"Not with a warrant, it's not," Emily replies, glancing at him.

* * *

"Ho-ly crap," Penelope breathes, looking at the information in front of her.

She calls Derek.

"Hey mama," he answers, sounding a little breathless.

"Are you okay?" she demands.

"Always," Derek responds. "Got Quick in cuffs and putting him in the car as we speak."

"Yeah, I did some research on him and Michael Thornton. You guys aren't going to believe this."

* * *

Emily enters the house through the front door, her gun leading her. It smells like fresh air hasn't entered the house in years. The rooms are dark and the floors are filthy.

She clears the first floor easily and then heads upstairs.

The first bedroom she enters has just a mattress on the dirty carpet. The bed has one flat, lifeless pillow and a moth-eaten blanket sitting on it. No sheets. There are clothes strewn about the floor. Emily carefully flings open the closet, revealing nothing but boxes.

The next room looks like something from that TV show about hoarders that Violet is so fascinated by. Emily's forehead creases in a slight frown as she takes a few steps into the odorous room. She can only get so far into it before boxes and junk block her way.

She continues down the hall. One door leads only to a closet, but the shelves are mostly bare, with a few threadbare towels gracing one of the shelves.

She comes to the final door and sees a lock placed on the outside.

She clenches her jaw, preparing to throw the door open and find the missing woman.

The lock isn't secured so Emily slides it out and flips over the metal hinge. She drops the lock on the floor and slowly turns the doorknob.

She's so surprised by what she finds that her lips part and she stares, open-mouthed.

* * *

Derek enters the house after talking to Penelope and getting Marcus locked in to the backseat.

"Emily?" he calls.

"Up here," she answers, her tone sounding odd.

Derek takes the stairs two at a time. He finds Emily at the end of the hall, standing in the doorway to a room.

"You won't believe what Penelope found out," he says, walking towards her.

"Is it weirder than this?" Emily asks, still staring forward.

* * *

Everything about Marcus Quick's house is dirty. The main floor with its old, curling linoleum, the dishes all over the counter, and the dusty front room where a couch and TV sit. The upstairs bedrooms are either bursting with junk or bare, like Marcus's room with its mattress and lonely pillow and blanket.

But this room at the end of the hall looks like it belongs in a different house.

Derek reaches Emily and stops to stare.

The floor is a shiny hardwood, with an area rug placed beneath the four-poster bed. The bed is made with clean, unsullied blankets. A dresser sits against one wall with a mirror attached, and things placed neatly on top of it. A hairbrush and a jewelry box; a watch and a wallet.

"What the hell…" Emily breathes, looking all around her at the clean, well-kept room.

"Marcus Quick and Michael Thornton are identical twins," Derek says, looking around the room, surprised.


	19. Chapter 19

"What?" Emily turns to face him.

"I just talked to Garcia," Derek explains. "Apparently a set of identical twins were born in Indianapolis in 1979. The mother gave them up for adoption. Both boys were adopted, but by different families. Drew and Mary Anne Thornton adopted one of the boys, and Rick and Diana Quick adopted the other."

Emily stares, stunned.

"And both of them lost their parents," she mumbles.

"Yeah, the Quicks were killed in a car accident 18 years ago. Drew Thornton left when Michael was four, and Mary Anne died when he was 17."

"Oh my god," Emily breathes, staring around the room. "And Marcus's parents died when he was 17, too. So this room has been like this for almost 20 years."

"Yeah," Derek murmurs, looking at the room.

"I haven't checked the basement yet," Emily remembers.

"Come on," Derek says, leaving the room.

The find the door to the basement, hidden behind the almost-empty refrigerator.

"Like this place isn't creepy enough," Emily says, helping Derek move the fridge.

The door is locked from the outside by three separate locks.

"What are the chances of him giving up where the keys are?" Derek says out loud.

"I think we're better off figuring this out ourselves," Emily replies.

She opens a few drawers and finds a junk drawer full of random objects.

"Here," she says, handing Derek a screwdriver.

He gets to work unscrewing the lock hinges.

A short while later, Derek opens the door. It creaks eerily and they're left peering into darkness. Emily feels against the wall and flips a switch. Nothing happens.

Derek turns on his flashlight and peers into the darkness.

"There's not even a staircase," he notices. "Looks like we're jumping in."

He lowers himself down to the floor; it equals about five feet of height.

He helps Emily down and they point their flashlights into the dark basement.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Emily murmurs, looking around.

"Nothing about this guy is good," Derek responds.

They move around

The floor is bare, cold cement, and the basement walls are paneled wood. In one corner sits a pyramid of boxes, adjacent to a washer, dryer, and water heater.

In the other corner, is a closed door.

Emily gestures towards it and starts to walk, followed by Derek.

This door is locked from the outside, but only with a little hook. Emily lifts the hook and flips the hinge. Slowly, she starts to open the door.

They're greeted by complete darkness. Derek feels against the wall and finds a light switch. He flips it. A dim light appears from one solitary light bulb, swinging from the roof. And Derek and Emily stare in horror.

* * *

The room is large; it must half the size of the first floor of the house itself. They suspect the walls were built by Marcus himself. The workmanship is shoddy and poor, but the walls are the least of their worries. Along the entire left side of the room are bodies hanging from the exposed beams of the ceiling. Emily quickly counts nine of them. The smell of the decomposing bodies smothers them, creeping into their nostrils and flooding their lungs.

They cover their mouths and Emily moves her flashlight to aid the poor lighting of the light bulb.

"Derek," she says, moving quickly to the far right-hand corner of the room. A mattress is on the floor, and there's somebody on it.

* * *

Emily reaches the woman first. She places her fingers on the woman's neck, exhaling with relief when she feels the slight pulse beat against her fingertips.

"She's alive," she tells Derek.

Derek carefully lifts the woman up.

She's filthy. Her hair is matted and dirty, and when Emily shines her flashlight over the woman's face, they can see where tears have stained her cheeks.

"It's Marisa Wylie," Emily breathes, recognizing the most recent kidnapping victim.

Outside they can hear the faint noise of sirens arriving.

"Let's get her out of here," Emily says, refusing to look into the woman's face again.

Whenever she sees a dark-haired female, her immediate thought is Violet. And that makes her sick, to imagine her baby being hurt.

As they walk towards the spot where the staircase should be, Marisa starts to wake up. In a drugged stupor, she starts to cry, begging them not to hurt her.

"We're not gonna hurt you, honey," Derek soothes her. "You're safe now. We're gonna get you out of here."

She seems to understand because she lets herself cry.

Emily lifts herself up out of the basement and reaches down to help Derek get Marisa out.

She's too weak to do much, so Emily uses all of her weight to pull the woman up out of Derek's arms.

They get her outside just as the group of cop cars, ambulances, and the BAU arrives.

"Marisa Wylie?" Hotch asks, getting out of the SUV.

"It's her," Emily confirms. "She's alive, but I think she's drugged. She's really weak."

Derek carries her to the waiting ambulance, where he lays her down carefully on the gurney so the paramedics can get to work.

"What did you find?" Hotch asks, his forehead creased.

"Nine more victims," Emily responds. "None of them are alive."

"You're gonna need a lot more people than this," Derek alerts the nearby police chief. "As well as some body bags."

The chief nods and gets on his radio immediately.

"Nine," JJ says, staring at the derelict house. "What's the matter with this guy?"

"Did you guys talk to Penelope?" Emily asks.

"Yeah," JJ replies, her eyes widening for a second. "It's unbelievable."

They both turn to look through the front window of the SUV. They see Marcus Quick sitting in the back seat. He watches as police fill his home.

"Do you think he knows?" JJ asks.

"That he's an identical twin? No."

"Who's gonna tell him?"

Emily stares at the man, with the blank look in his eyes and an unwavering look of indifference on his face.

"Not me," Emily replies.


	20. Chapter 20

"How does that even happen?" Violet asks, as they decorate the Christmas tree the next day. "Why would someone split up twins like that anyway?"

"I don't know," Emily replies, untangling a strand of lights. "I don't understand it either."

"Is someone going to tell him?"

"I would think so," Emily answers. "He has a right to know."

Violet frowns in thought as they wrap the lights around the tree.

"What would you do if you found out you had a twin sister or something, but that they were a psychopathic serial killer?"

Emily chuckles. "I'm not sure," she says. "I guess I'd be curious about them, but I'm not sure how I'd feel about it."

"Yeah," Violet agrees.

Sergio wanders through the ropes of garland sitting on the ground.

"Oh, no you don't, Serg," Emily says, lifting him out of the sparkling decorations. "Not for cats."

Violet picks up a nearby cat toy and flings it across the room. Sergio goes racing after it.

The phone rings.

Emily walks over to where it sits on the coffee table. She frowns at the screen.

"Is it that weird number again?" Violet asks.

"Well, lack of a number, but yeah," Emily replies, ignoring the call.

"Maybe it's one of those telemarketers or something," Violet suggests, now starting to wrap garland around the tree.

"Yeah," Emily replies. "You're probably right."

She smiles at Violet and starts to help her with the garland.

They both kind of forgot about getting a tree, until Penelope saw their living room and asked where all the Christmas decorations were. Christmas is a week away and they both know that Elizabeth Prentiss would have something to say about them not having a tree.

"Did you ask Matthew about Christmas Eve?"

"Yeah," Violet replies, picking up an ornament she'd made when she was really little and they were living in Italy. "He's gonna come by for a bit."

"Good," Emily nods. "I like that kid."

"Yeah," Violet grins a half-grin. "He's pretty awesome."

The buzzer sounds. Emily and Violet look at each other blankly, each thinking maybe the other was expecting someone.

"I didn't invite anyone over," Violet raises her brow, shrugging.

"Me neither," Emily frowns.

She walks over and presses the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, uh, is Violet home?" a guy's voice asks.

"Who is this?" Emily asks, masking her protectiveness with a veil of politeness.

"Uh, my name's Braden Holt," the kid replies.

Emily turns to look at Violet. She watches as a hint of recognition registers on Violet's face.

"That's the kid from school," Violet says quietly, remembering. "The one Devon was about to shoot."

Emily raises an eyebrow, surprised and debating her response to the boy.

"Let him up," Violet shrugs.

She looks down at the garland in her hands and then drops it.

Emily presses the button to unlock the front door.

"You sure?" she asks, coming to stand in front of Violet.

Violet chews her bottom lip and nods.

"Yeah," she murmurs.

A few moments later they hear Braden knock. Violet stands near the kitchen island, where she can see the door but isn't that close. Emily opens it, revealing the dark-haired boy that Violet last saw cowered and crying on the floor of a hallway at school.

"Mrs. Prentiss?" he ventures.

"Ms," Emily corrects him. "Come on in."

Emily closes the door behind him.

"Violet's in the kitchen," Emily gestures for Braden to go ahead.

He walks slowly and then sees Violet. She looks into his dark blue eyes. The first time she ever saw Braden, he was laughing in class with his friends. The second time, he was teasing Devon. And the third, was in his worst moment. She didn't even know his name until the night of the shooting.

"Hey," he says quietly, suddenly seeming shy.

"Hey," Violet replies.

Emily is proud of how calm and collected her daughter is. But Violet only learned to be that way from watching her mother. Her unwavering, brave mother.

"I, uh," Braden begins, glancing over to where Emily stands on the other side of the island. "I wanted to come and say thank you. To both of you."

The Prentiss's wait.

"If you hadn't been there, Violet, I'd be dead right now."

"I don't think Devon actually wanted to kill anybody," Violet replies calmly.

"I dunno," Braden shrugs. "When that kid had that gun in my face, I was sure I was about to die. It was really brave of you to throw yourself in front of it all like you did."

"Devon," Violet frowns. "His name is Devon."

"Right, yeah," Braden almost shrugs it off. "Devon."

Violet hides the worst of her disgust. "And I wasn't doing it to be brave. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Well, it was brave. Braver than me."

Violet chews her lip.

"I've had a lot of time to think about everything," he goes on. "I'm really lucky to be alive and not like, hurt or something."

Violet looks at him questioningly.

"Y'know, like Callie Grant. She's paralyzed now or something."

Violet nods slowly, glancing away from him. She's annoyed that he's making light of everything.

"I always thought making fun of other kids was just a normal thing to do, y'know? Like certain kids just get teased."

Violet frowns. "How would that be normal?"

"I dunno. It happens all the time. Everywhere."

"I'm guessing you've never been bullied," Violet ventures.

"Not really, no," Braden shrugs. "I guess I've just been popular without really trying."

She nods slowly, chewing her lip and glancing away from him for a moment.

"Hmm," she meets his eyes again, not having anything to say to him.

"But now, after all of that stuff…" he replies. "I'm not that guy who makes fun of people anymore."

His lack of sincerity makes Violet clench her jaw.

"Good," she says anyway. "I'm glad."

"Me too," Braden nods. "Everything's changed now. I didn't even realize that what I was doing mattered. Like that kid never said anything or whatever."

"Devon," she raises an eyebrow.

"Right. Devon."

He shakes his head, as though he'd forgotten the name.

"Anyway," he breathes, looking a bit nervous. "I was thinking…maybe you'd wanna hang out sometime."

Violet doesn't even pretend to hide the surprised frown.

"What?"

"Maybe you wanna go to a movie or something?"

"Are you asking me out?" Violet raises her brow. It looks so much like Emily that Emily bites her lips to hide an amused grin.

"Kind of, I guess," Braden shrugs. "Yeah."

"Um," Violet glances away from him for a second. She looks back to meet his gaze. "No. I don't think so."

Braden looks surprised as he closes and then opens his mouth again.

Clearly this "king of campus" has never been shut down before.

"Uh, alright," he says slowly, turning to glance at Emily. She just smiles.

"I guess I should get going," Braden says, looking confused and unsure what to do.

"Yeah," Violet agrees, starting to walk to the door.

Braden follows.

"If you change your mind—"

"I won't," Violet interrupts him. "Sorry."

He closes his mouth and then nods. Violet opens the door. She forces a slight smile, hoping it comes across as polite, and then gives him a lazy wave.

"Okay, well…see ya," he says.

"Later," Violet replies.

She closes the door and flips the main deadbolt. She stares at the door for a second and then turns around.

Emily is standing near the kitchen with an impressed and surprised look on her face.

"Wow," she says, nodding at her daughter approvingly. "Violet Emily-Rose, you are one fierce girl."

Violet rolls her eyes, walking back to the living room.

"What an…" she begins, shaking her head. "Idiot!"

Emily raises her brow, surprised at the burst of irritation.

"What is he even thinking?" she demands, looking annoyed.

"That you're gorgeous and smart and amazing," Emily replies easily. "And he's used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants it."

Violet scoffs, shaking her head.

"And, what the hell! He thought that I'd suddenly want to date Mr. Popularity because he claims to be a 'new person'?"

Emily takes a breath, shaking her head as she goes to join Violet at the tree.

"I guess," she shrugs. "Who knows how his teenage-boy brain works."

"Clearly it doesn't," Violet retorts, returning to the garland.

"Vi," Emily chuckles her name. "Don't let him get you all riled up."

"I'm not," Violet says quickly. "He's just dumb. He's spent his entire life being this asshole jock who thinks he's better than everybody, and he thinks after something like_ that, _I'd just go 'hang out' with him?"

They both know what _that _refers to.

Emily reaches out to push a lock of hair behind Violet's ear, and cup her cheek in her palm.

"Hey," she says gently. "It's okay. Just take a deep breath."

Violet inhales and then exhales with impatience.

"It's like he's trying to act like it was nothing," she says, her voice softening around the tears that are threatening to appear. "It will never be 'nothing'."

"No, it won't."

"I mean, I feel bad that he went through all of that. That night, on the floor..." she shakes her head.

She still doesn't talk much about that night. Emily stays quiet, hoping Violet will get some of the pressure out.

"I know he thought he was going to die. I know that. I saw it in his face. And I hate what Devon did. I hate it. I hate that he felt like that was his only option, and I hate that Callie and the others were hurt... Braden can't just shrug it off. Well, he can whatever the fuck he wants, but I'm not gonna be there to watch him pick a new kid to humiliate. How can he not see how much pain he causes, while he thinks he's being funny or cool or some shit?"

Emily raises her brow, surprised at the swearing, but she doesn't reprimand Violet for it. She needs her to talk.

"I don't get it," Violet shakes her, some of her anger diffusing.

"Me neither, baby," Emily replies gently. "Braden may think he's the top of some imaginary food chain, but life's not like that. He'll get taken down a few pegs eventually."

Violet exhales, tossing the garland to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Don't let him get to you," Emily says firmly.

She pulls Violet into her arms and hugs her.

"I'm proud of you," she tells Violet, and then looks her in the eye. "So proud."

Violet shrugs it off. "For saying no to a date?"

"For standing up for what you know is right," Emily corrects her. "For being you."

Violet tries to shake off her irritation as she stands up and begins to gather the garland again. "Who else would I be?"

"Exactly," Emily smiles.


	21. Chapter 21

Two days before Christmas, Emily and Violet get ready to go pick up Elizabeth from the airport.

"Are we telling Grandma about you getting the crap beat out of you by an unsub?" Violet asks, pulling on her jacket.

"We are not," Emily replies, looking Violet in the eye as she pulls her own jacket on.

"Just checking," Violet says. "But that's totally not fair because you told her about _my _drama."

"You are my child, and her grandchild. That overrules you any day of the week," Emily tells her.

"Yeah, yeah," Violet breathes, walking towards the door.

Before she can open it, a knock sounds. Violet peers through the peephole.

"It's Grandma," Violet says, surprised as she quickly unlocks the door.

"What?" Emily asks, coming towards the door.

Violet swings it open to reveal Elizabeth Prentiss. She never changes. Emily's not sure that she ages normally. She definitely doesn't look like a grandmother, with her Chanel suit and expensive shoes. A man stands behind her, laden down with bags.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Emily asks, confused.

"I believe it's Christmas, Emily," Elizabeth replies. "I _was _invited."

Emily rolls her eyes, leading her mother further into the apartment as her driver unloads the bags.

"Obviously," Emily says. "I mean why are you here? We were just coming to get you."

"My flight landed early," Elizabeth replies, setting down her purse; her eyes already focused on Violet. "Now come over here and give your Grandmother a hug."

Violet obeys, breathing in the familiar smell of Chanel No. 5. She associates it with her grandmother.

"Let me look at you," Elizabeth says, taking Violet's face in her palms. "Just as I suspected."

She grins and winks at Violet.

"As beautiful as ever."

Violet blushes, glancing down at the floor.

"How are you, my darling?"

"I'm fine," Violet assures her. "Really."

Elizabeth glances at Emily and then steps towards her and wraps her arms around her for a short hug. They've never been very close.

"Is the doctor still coming by?" she asks.

The driver sets down the last bag. Elizabeth reaches her hand out to discreetly pass a tip to the man with a handshake. He nods politely and leaves.

"Yes, the doctor still comes," Emily says when the man is gone. "Three times a week."

"Good," Elizabeth nods. "We can't have this impeding Violet's growth and potential."

Emily slowly closes her eyes, reminding herself to be patient. She just hates when Elizabeth infers that Emily isn't doing the best job she possibly can, in raising her daughter.

"I'm not impeded," Violet tells her Grandma, seeing her mother's jaw clench. "Dr. Saunders is great. You'd like her."

"And leaving the house…how is that going?"

Violet shrugs, slightly shaking her head. "It's going. I go to work with Mom all the time."

"What about going out with friends? Having fun?" Elizabeth says.

Violet chews her lip, glancing at her mother.

"She's doing her best, Mother," Emily defends Violet. "The fact that she leaves the house is great in itself. Matthew comes and hangs out with her here."

"Sweetheart," Elizabeth says, looking at Violet sternly but lovingly. "It's important for you to go out and do things. See things. You're still just a child. There's so much life out there for you."

Violet breaks their eye contact, feeling a little guilty. She knows this. She's trying.

"Alright, Mother," Emily says, placing her hands on her mother's back and gently pushing her towards the stairs. "Let's give Violet a break. She's doing her best. I'll show you where the guest room is."

Elizabeth starts up the stairs. Right behind her, Emily looks over at Violet. She mouths the words 'I love you' and feels better when Violet smiles.

"The decorator I hired did a wonderful job," Elizabeth comments, looking around.

"Yep," Emily nods. "We love it."

"Oh, this is perfect," Elizabeth says, stopping at the top of the stairs to peer into Violet's room. "These high ceilings just make a home feel open and warm."

"Mm hmm," Emily agrees. "This is the guest room."

She pushes open the door to reveal the third bedroom in the loft. Decorated by Elizabeth herself, she smiles as she looks around.

"Lovely," she says.

"I'll let you get settled," Emily says, and leaves.

She goes downstairs and finds Violet eating from a bag of Sour Patch Kids.

"Hide those," Emily tells her in a quiet but rushed voice. She glances up at the stairs and, seeing the absence of her mother's form, she reaches over and snags some candy.

"She'll throw them out if she sees them," Emily says, her mouth full.

Violet chuckles and gets up to hide the bag.

"You're always so tense the first day she gets here," Violet says, standing up from where she was crouched near a cupboard.

Emily exhales. "What can I say. She has that effect on me."

"She shouldn't," Violet replies, walking to the couch and flopping onto it. "She has no ammo on you. You're the best mom."

Emily, touched, tilts her head slightly.

"Thanks, baby," she says, appreciating the words.

Violet just shrugs as if such news is obvious.

Elizabeth comes back downstairs.

"Well," she clasps her hands. "I hope you don't mind that I arranged most of the Christmas plans."

"What plans?" Emily asks, running a hand over Violet's silky hair as she lies on the couch.

"Well, dinner, of course," Elizabeth replies. "We'll have a caterer come."

"What?" Emily makes a face. "No, Mother. We're not getting some poor caterer to miss Christmas with their family because you never felt the urge to learn to cook."

"I can cook just fine, Emily," Elizabeth tells her, giving her a look.

"We don't need a caterer," Emily tells her. "Most of the team is coming here for dinner on Christmas Eve. We already planned all that."

Elizabeth looks surprised. "The team?"

"Yeah," Emily nods.

"Oh," she says, looking—surprisingly—impressed. "Well that sounds lovely. I haven't seen Aaron in years."

"Yep," Emily breathes. "He'll be here, with Haley and Jack. Christmas Day we just figured we'd all do our own thing. Just hang out at home."

Elizabeth nods, apparently agreeing with these plans.

"Well. Violet," Elizabeth grins. "How about a game of Trivial Pursuit?"

* * *

"JJ's bringing someone to dinner," Emily tells Violet the next morning, as they prepare for the party that night, baking cookies and cooking.

"Ooo," Violet replies, licking icing from her finger. "Maybe she's finally going to admit that she's seeing somebody."

"She might as well," Emily laughs.

Elizabeth walks downstairs, freshly showered and looking impeccable, as always.

"I'm surprised you're up and running before me, Violet," she grins.

"Believe me, Grandma," Violet replies, arranging cookies on a plate. "No one is more surprised than me."

"You could have slept in, darling," she says, accepting the mug of tea that Emily hands her. "Thank you, dear."

Emily smiles, continuing to cook.

"It's not really an option when your mother creeps into your room at 8:00 a.m. and crawls into your bed and starts bugging you."

"Emily," Elizabeth scolds, but Emily just laughs.

"So. Who all are we expecting tonight?" Elizabeth asks, sitting at the island beside Violet.

"Well, Hotch and his wife and son; Jason Gideon; Derek Morgan; Spencer Reid; Jennifer Jareau, but we all call her JJ. And she's bringing someone. And Penelope Garcia."

"Oh thank goodness," Elizabeth rolls her eyes.

"What?" Emily demands.

"I'm glad you didn't say Erin Strauss. I'm not sure I could stomach her for an entire evening."

Violet snickers as she decorates another cookie.

"Strauss isn't exactly part of our team," Emily replies, smiling with amusement. "And believe me, I wouldn't invite her anyway."

"She's awful," Elizabeth shakes her head and takes a sip of tea.

"She's shady," Violet says.

"How so, dear?" Elizabeth frowns, not familiar with the slang.

"That would be teenage vernacular for untrustworthy and up to no good," Emily translates.

"You kids these days have so many new words," Elizabeth shakes her head. "I don't know how you manage to understand it all."

"Semplice, Nonna," Violet replies in Italian. "Non parlo con nessuno a scuola."

"Violet," Elizabeth scolds. "I hope you're joking. I'm sure there are lots of kids who would make wonderful friends."

"I have friends, Grandma," Violet replies, amused.

"Whom?" Elizabeth asks, raising her brow. "And don't say Dr. Reid and Jason Gideon. Grown men that you play chess with don't count."

"Yes they do," Violet says, a little defensive.

Elizabeth shakes her head slightly. "Oh, Violet. Who besides that young homosexual is your friend?"

Emily and Violet simultaneously let out an amused laugh. They sound identical.

"His name's Matthew, Mom," Emily says. "And you'll really like him."

"And you don't have to mention his sexuality," Violet adds.

"I won't," Elizabeth waves it off dismissively. "What about girl friends?"

"Grandma, I'm not hurting for friends," Violet assures her. "Really. I'm socialized as much as I can stand and then I need to come home and just…decompress."

"You're exactly like your mother," Elizabeth sighs, reaching down for her purse.

Emily and Violet look at each other and make faces at each other, going straight-faced as soon as Elizabeth's head is back up.


	22. Chapter 22

Violet and Elizabeth sit at the island while Violet works on a crossword puzzle and Elizabeth reads emails. Emily is upstairs wrapping presents.

"I've been meaning to ask you, dear," Elizabeth begins. "If you don't leave the house, how did you manage to get Christmas gifts for people?"

"Internet shopping is a wonderful thing, Grandma," Violet replies, filling in a word. "What's an eight-letter word for _resign_?"

"Abdicate," Elizabeth replies after a moment.

"Ahh," Violet groans. "Of course."

"So you bought all of the gifts online?"

"Mmhmm," Violet replies.

"Violet."

Her tone sounds so unlike her that it causes Violet to look up at her. She reaches out and takes Violet's hands in hers.

"I'm not saying these things to be cold or unfeeling. I say them because I love you, so much. The thought of you afraid like this makes me very worried. You are capable of such greatness. I can't sit back and watch that diminish."

Violet takes a breath, averting her eyes. She knows it's true. She's been cowering in a corner while life happens around her.

"Please. Promise me that you'll try, harder than you've ever tried anything. I promise, it will be worth it."

She waits expectantly.

"Okay," Violet agrees, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Promise me," Elizabeth presses, her voice more emotional than Violet's ever heard it.

When she meets her grandmother's eyes, she sees the glossy look of held-back tears.

"I promise, Grandma," Violet vows.

Elizabeth gives her a small smile and pulls her in to her arms.

When she releases her, the glossy look begins to diminish.

"Now. How about we start getting ready for this fabulous party?"

Violet half-smiles at the look of excitement on her grandma's face and follows her upstairs.

* * *

"What are you wearing?" Emily demands, stepping into Violet's room.

"Tights and a tunic," Violet replies, applying a dusting of powder to her face.

"Ha," Emily lets out a scoff-like laugh. "No. I don't think so."

Surprised, Violet turns to face her just as Elizabeth walks in to see what's going on.

"What? Why?"

They've never really disagreed on clothes. Violet's never been one to dress in a revealing way.

"Because," Emily replies, her voice higher than normal. She points at Violet's chest. "Those…should be…away."

Violet glances down at the V-neck of the plum-coloured tunic.

"Mom," Violet tilts her head.

"Violet," Emily replies, widening her eyes with a Mom look.

"Emily," Violet says back, matching her mother's tone.

"Violet," Emily says sternly.

"Come on," Violet replies, looking down at her chest again. "It's your fault. You're the one who bequeathed me these wondrous boobs during my mitosis. You're the one who threw them in the gene pool."

"Put something underneath," Emily orders.

"Like another bra? If I wear two, my boobs look as big as yours," Violet responds, squishing her boobs together to create the effect.

Emily gives her a wide-eyed look that makes Violet a little bit nervous.

"Alright," she gives in, making a face at her mother. "Jeez."

Emily goes over to the closet and finds a charcoal tank top, handing it to Violet.

Violet takes it, exhaling loudly.

Emily leaves the room, shaking her head. Violet looks at her grandmother and finds Elizabeth with an amused grin on her face.

Ten minutes later, Violet bounces downstairs, dressed Emily-appropriate.

"Have I pandered to your orders sufficiently, sergeant?" Violet asks, holding her arms out as if to showcase her outfit.

Emily rolls her eyes, but lets out a breathy laugh.

"You have," she replies. "Thank you."

"No, Mother," Violet says, her voice sounding like she's playing up professionalism. "Thank _you_, for these boobs that you've developed a sudden fear of."

"I am not afraid of your boobs," Emily rolls her eyes. "I'm the boss of your world. You should be used to it by now."

Violet takes a breath, exhaling with a sigh. "I am. But it was pretty funny to get a rise out of you."

Emily stops arranging a cheese plate and stares at Violet.

"You little monkey," she says, a smile starting to form.

She reaches out and grabs Violet, pulling her into her arms and locking her there, while tickling her ribs.

Violet shrieks, trying to get away.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she cries.

Emily stops tickling her but keeps her held tight.

"There will be retribution for this," she warns.

She kisses Violet's cheek and lets her go. A moment later the buzzer sounds.

"Balls," Violet shakes her head. "A few moments sooner and your team would have witnessed your abuse."

"Abuse," Emily scoffs, pressing the button to unlock the front doors.

"Don't make me call the hotline again," Violet tells her, bending down to pick up Sergio.

Chuckling, Emily just shakes her head.


	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry for how short that last chapter was!**

**I'm glad you guys are liking this! I love reading the reviews, and I love you guys!**

* * *

Moments later, the loft is filled with the sounds of Christmas greetings as the team comes through the door.

"We found a straggler, too," Derek teases, giving Matthew's shoulder a squeeze.

"Guilty," Matthew grins, making his way through the adults. He looks for Violet and stares. "You made a little outfit adjustment."

"Actually, the Boob Police did," Violet juts her thumb towards Emily, who just shakes her head with a smile on her face.

"The what now?" Derek raises an eyebrow.

"Don't ask," Emily replies, starting to take jackets.

Penelope gives Violet a hug, wishing her a Merry Christmas.

"You look gorgeous," she tells Violet, then looks at her, thinking. "She made you wear a tank top?"

"Yes," Violet nods once. "And in my defence, I didn't look like a ho or something before it."

"Mom's prerogative," JJ replies, giving Violet a hug. "She'd keep you in turtlenecks if she really wanted to."

Elizabeth walks down the stairs and smiles at the guests.

"You must be Emily's mother," Penelope smiles, excited to meet her.

"Yes," Elizabeth smiles, taking Penelope's outstretched hand.

"Penelope Garcia," Penelope grins.

"It's lovely to meet you."

"You too. I can see now where Emily and Violet get that killer bone structure from," Penelope says.

Elizabeth chuckles.

The rest of the team is introduced to Elizabeth, with Aaron last.

"Ambassador Prentiss," he smiles — or is as close to smiling as he gets.

"Just Elizabeth is fine," Elizabeth replies. "It's lovely to see you again, Aaron."

"You too," Aaron nods. "This is my wife Haley, and our son Jack."

Jack is just over a year old, and sucks on his fingers happily.

"What a gorgeous boy," Elizabeth praises, making Aaron and Haley swell with pride.

"Thank you," Haley smiles. "He's a wonderful baby."

"Even at 3 a.m.," Aaron raises his brow dryly.

Elizabeth laughs.

"Ah, yes. I remember those days," she says. "Emily was a terrible sleeper. She always had to be up, seeing everything."

"Sounds about right," Derek replies, glancing at Emily, who just shakes her head, rolling her eyes and grinning.

"But Violet was a wonderful baby. Slept like a dream and ate whatever you offered her."

"I'm many things," Violet exhales, nodding. "And hungry is one of them. Pretty much all the time."

"Curse of being a teenager," Derek says, nudging her playfully.

"That, among other things," Violet says quietly, rolling her eyes towards Emily.

"Seulement parce que je t'aime plus que la vie elle-même," Emily smiles, winking at her.

Violet can't help but grin at her before she follows Matthew into the living room while Emily and Elizabeth start asking what everyone wants to drink.

"Dr. Reid is looking rather dapper this evening," Matthew grins devilishly, raising an eyebrow as he casts a glance at Spencer.

"Matty, you gotta let that bird fly," Violet replies, shaking her head. "You've got a P where he requires a V."

Matthew sighs woefully, watching the adults laugh as they're given cocktails and glasses of wine.

"On the bright side, your mom is fucking gorgeous."

Violet frowns. "Okay," she pauses. "I'll…let her know."

"I just like to surround myself with beauty," Matthew shrugs. "The Prentiss women happen to fit the bill."

Violet smacks him. "That's the most pompous thing I've ever heard you say. 'Fit the bill'?"

"I don't mean it in a bad way," he says quickly, leaning away from her. "It's a compliment! We met randomly and we happen to be soul mates. On top of that, you and your mom are hot. It's just icing on the cake, girl."

Violet chuckles, shaking her head.

"Don't tell me you're still mad about the tank top," Emily teases, bringing the two of them tumblers of ginger ale.

"No, no," Violet waves dismissively. "Matthew here was just telling me what a stone-cold babe he thinks you are."

Emily pauses, tilting her head as she considers this.

"Uh, thank you?"

"You're welcome, Emily," Matthew replies, touching her arm daintily.

Emily laughs and retreats to the area between the kitchen and living room, where everyone else is standing.

Reid wanders over, standing in his adorably nerdy way with one hand in his pocket. He rocks on the balls of his feet.

"Hey guys," he smiles. "Merry Christmas."

"And to you, Doctor," Violet replies, lifting her shoulders as she smiles.

Their relationship has reached a point of comfortability, full of inside jokes and familiarity.

"Ah yes," he grins, taking a sit across from them. "You've been watching old movies."

"Vivien Leigh," Violet shakes her head. "Top-notch."

"Soon enough, I'll convert you to science fiction," he nods.

"I don't think so, Spencer," Violet replies bluntly. "Star Wars is cool, but I can't get on the whole Lord of the Rings, Battlestar Galactica bandwagon."

"In time, grasshopper," he replies. "What about you, Matthew? Watch any cool movies lately?"

"Hmm," Matthew hums, lifting one leg to cross it over the other. "Well I did watch To Wong Fu: Thanks for Everything. And I'm 120% sure that I would look phenomenal in drag."

"I could see that," Spencer nods.

"Definitely," Violet nods. "You're all legs, great cheekbones, your eyelashes are comparable to my mom's."

"Keep it comin'," Matthew says, fanning his hands near his face.

Violet laughs, shoving him playfully.

"Drag culture is actually very interesting," Spencer responds. "And it's only growing. You should definitely try it out if you think you'd like it."

"Jesus Christ," Matthew breathes, shaking his head slowly.

Violet and Spencer frown, tilting their heads with confusion.

"I grow up with a group of people who refuse to be open-minded and stifle me, a mom who flat out told me I was an embarrassment — and who, yes, is starting to change — but, I mean...I meet Violet and she's fucking awesome, and then I meet her huge FBI family, and all of _them _are fucking awesome, too."

He shakes his head, looking from Violet to Spencer.

They wait cautiously, unsure if he's going to cry or smile.

"I just fucking love you guys," he says, shrugging with a head shake. "That's it. That's all. Love."

He reaches over and hugs Violet.

"I love you, too, you big gay drama queen," Violet replies, causing Matthew to laugh loudly.

"Spencer, I'm going to hug you," Matthew says, as though it's a warning.

"Okay," Spencer replies slowly.

Matthew wraps his arms around him and Violet shakes her head at the dramatic rolling of Matthew's eyes, and then at the awkward pat on the back from Spencer.

"Aww, I totally got both of those moments on camera," Penelope says, smiling gushily at them.

"Save one for Matty," Violet suggests.

"You are literally the only person on the planet that I allow to call me that," Matthew raises a finger.

"Pleasure's all mine," Violet grins.

* * *

Within an hour, everyone is snacking on the numerous platters of appetizers and feeling a little tipsy.

Violet is in the middle of a game of chess with Spencer.

Derek, Gideon, and Matthew sit and watch.

"I just…don't get it," Matthew says, raising his palms. "I don't get it."

"Me neither, man," Derek assures him.

"Perfect place to learn," Gideon puts in. "Three excellent players, three excellent teachers."

"Vi tried to explain it me once," Matthew replies, chin in hand. "I got lost and could only focus on how amazing it must be to be the Queen."

The other two chuckle.

"Don't worry if you're not that interested in picking it up," Derek says, referring to the game. "It's not my thing, either. But I still like watching Little Prentiss beat grown men at it."

"She's something else, isn't she?" Gideon grins. "Reminds me of when I started playing. Although at that age, I wasn't as good as she is."

"It's those Prentiss genes," Derek says, taking a swig of his drink.

"What about my genes?" Emily appears, leaning forwards from behind Derek and Matthew.

"They're amazing," Matthew replies.

"Well thank you, boys," Emily grins, arms resting on their shoulders. "How's my little genius doing in this round?"

"Was close for a few moves, but Violet's got him," Gideon says, quietly so Spencer doesn't hear.

Emily watches as Violet chews a thumbnail, and then her lip, before reaching out and moving her piece. She looks up at Spencer as she slowly drags the piece and stands it up.

A look of realization appears on Spencer's face.

"Dammit," he murmurs, studying the board, as their four spectators cheer.

"Nice work, baby," Emily smiles, standing behind Violet and bending down to hug her. She kisses Violet's blushing cheek.

Spencer begins to nod, still staring at the board. Finally, he looks up and gives Violet an admiring grin.

"Nice game, Violet," he reaches his hand out.

"Thanks," she replies shyly.

"Hey, JJ," Emily calls. "Didn't you say you were bringing someone?"

She raises her brow suggestively.

"He'll be here," JJ replies, amused by Emily.

Emily nods slowly and then clasps her hands.

"Okay, can we abandon the seriousness and play something else?" she asks.

"Such as?" Derek asks.

"Pictionary," Emily replies with a grin.


	24. Chapter 24

Violet steps up for her turn to draw.

She can't be any worse than Spencer, whose version of a dog looked like a loaf of bread with legs.

She starts to draw, hoping her team — her mother, Derek, JJ, Matthew, and Haley — can guess her drawing.

People start shouting out things as she begins to draw.

"Ears!"

"Head!"

"Head. Ears. Ear head. Ear muffs!" Emily shouts.

Violet gives her a look and keeps drawing.

"It's a cat!" JJ cries.

"Kitten!"

"Cats the musical!" Matthew calls out.

"Typical," Violet shakes her head at him.

She keeps drawing, creating what she feels is a decent likeness of her card.

"Cat," Emily starts blurting things out again. "Big cat. Large cat. Pregnant cat!"

"Mom," Violet stares at her. "Seriously?"

"Fat cat!" JJ points.

"Thank you!" Violet breathes, raising her hands and letting them fall as she goes to take her seat next to Emily.

"Pregnant cat?" Derek looks at Emily with an amused grin.

Violet just laughs into her glass of ginger ale.

"Hey, come on. I've always sucked at this game," Emily says, rubbing her hand over Violet's back.

"Not always," Violet corrects. "We played once in France and you nailed every turn."

"Oh yeah," Emily remembers. "Huh. Wonder how I managed that."

"You were sober," Violet replies dryly.

Everyone laughs and Emily takes the teasing with a grin and roll of her eyes.

"Ah, Christmas," she sighs, raising her glass in the air before taking a sip.

"Alright," Penelope says, standing up. "My turn."

"Come on, Garcia," Hotch calls out. "One more point and we've got this in the bag."

"No pressure," Gideon adds with a grin.

"Yeah right," Penelope replies, and then grins good-naturedly.

She picks a card and looks at it. Her poker face could use some work because she immediately looks bummed.

"You got this, Garcia," Spencer tells her. "Come on. Category?"

"Movie," Penelope replies.

She begins to draw. She makes a cloaked figure (sort of) and draws what appears to be a scythe.

"Grim reaper," Spencer says.

Penelope pauses in her drawing and kind of nods before drawing more.

"Tales of the Crypt Keeper," Gideon guesses and then corrects himself. "No, that's not a movie."

Penelope draws more and attempts to connect her drawings with arrows.

Violet grins and leans towards her mother, resting her chin on her shoulder as she whispers in her ear. Emily listens and then nods, realizing that Violet's right.

"Stop conspiring, Prentiss's!" Penelope cries, pointing her marker at them.

They both hold up their hands in innocence, but the identical reactions just make everyone laugh.

Derek leans over.

"Fill me in, Vi," he says quietly.

Violet whispers her guess and Derek makes the same face of realization that Emily did.

The timer ticks the seconds off until only five are left.

Emily and Violet's team starts to yell, knowing they're about to win this. They shout out the last four seconds, and Hotch's team groans about the loss.

"What is it?" Spencer demands, gesturing towards the drawing.

"Death Becomes Her," Emily and Violet call out.

Penelope looks at them with surprise, letting her hands rise and fall against her hips.

"Aww," Spencer groans, finally understanding the drawing. "_Death._ Not Grim Reaper. Ugghh."

"Don't worry, Reid," Derek claps his hand onto Spencer's shoulder and gives him a one-armed hug. "You can't win 'em all."

"Except he usually does," Emily points out.

She gives Reid a one-armed hug, rubbing his arm.

"Would a drink cheer you up?" she asks.

"Actually, alcohol is a depressant," Reid replies. "The effects are-"

"Alright," Emily draws the word out, pushing him towards the kitchen. "Let's visit the bar."

As she's getting Reid a drink, the buzzer sounds. Emily glances at JJ and grins, pressing the intercom.

"Hello?" she calls, over the noise.

"Hi, sorry I'm late. I was supposed to arrive with JJ," a somewhat familiar voice sounds.

"Come on up," Emily replies, pressing the button.

She looks over at JJ, who's now at her side.

"Why does he sound familiar?"

"Because you've already met him," JJ replies, looking half-sheepish and half-nervous.

"Who is it?" Emily asks, grinning hugely.

JJ takes a breath, scratching her head nervously as she exhales.

"Will," she gives in, finally divulging the secret that her entire team has known.

"LaMontagne?" Emily grins excitedly. "That was my guess!"

"What?" JJ frowns, confused.

"Oh, come on, JJ," Derek appears, swinging an arm around her shoulders. "You didn't actually think that we didn't know you were seeing someone."

Speechless, JJ opens and then closes her mouth.

"I…guess it was silly of me to think so," she finally says, blushing as a smile appears.

"We were just happy for you," Emily says. "We wanted to talk to you about it. And it's LaMontagne! He's great. This is great!"

A knock sounds at the door and Emily pulls it open.

"Agent Prentiss," Will LaMontagne, a police officer they worked with once, smiles shyly.

"Oh," Emily waves dismissively. "Emily. Please. Come on in."

Will enters, smiling as he sees JJ — and the entire team sneaking what they believe are inconspicuous glances.

"I'm sorry I'm so late," he says, glancing back to Emily.

"You're here now," she smiles, taking his coat for him.

* * *

As a Christmas tradition, Emily has always read _The Night Before Christmas _to Violet, every Christmas Eve since she had her first Christmas at 10 months old. She worries that Violet will eventually start to find it corny or silly, so a slow smile graces her face when Violet holds up the ancient book.

"Mom?" she calls.

Emily sets down her glass and walks over to where everyone is cozied up in the living room on the deep couches and comfortable chairs.

"Before Jack falls asleep," Violet adds, but Emily smiles, just glad that daughter remembered.

Violet doesn't think she'll ever not want to hear that story being read on Christmas Eve. It's a tradition that she loves.

Jack is laying sleepily in Haley's arms as Emily settles into the large armchair with Violet.

Violet rests her head on her shoulder as Emily reads.

She glances around the room and takes in this motley crew of family that they've been blessed with.

She was so upset at first about leaving France, but now she can't imagine not being here, with these people who she considers her family.

She sees Matthew, watching Emily read, and notices the glistening of his eyes.

Christmas was never a very fun time for him, because his mother would always get so emotional and end up saying hurtful things. Watching him now, Violet knows that he's thinking the same thing that she is.

Hotch and his family are pressed together, as Jack fights sleep. Spencer and Gideon sit side by side, nursing tumblers of scotch, and Penelope rests her head on Derek's shoulder as she listens. Elizabeth sits near the fire, smiling as Emily reads, and JJ and Will sit on the couch. Violet sees as his hand reaches over and clasps hers. JJ pauses for a moment but then relaxes, letting her fingers link with his; finally letting her relationship not be a secret.

Violet averts her gaze back to the pages of the storybook, nestling against her mother and feeling more at home than she can remember.


	25. Chapter 25

The day after Christmas, Emily and Violet brave the crowds to snag some of the sales happening at the mall.

Two hours in, Violet tags out.

"No more, Mom," she begs, her arms laden with bags. "Please."

"Yeah," Emily sighs, glancing at her own bags. "I think we won already."

"We definitely won," Violet agrees.

They stash their bags in the car and wander over to their favourite cafe.

It's busier than usual and the only table is near a table of four girls a little younger than Violet. Violet exhales but they take the table.

"How are you feeling about Newberry Hall?" Emily asks, taking her jacket off.

Violet shrugs at the mention of the new school that she and Emily chose. There weren't many non-religious private schools around, but Newberry Hall looks pretty great, and Matthew is transferring there too. Violet never wants to see Westminster again, and Emily couldn't blame her.

"Fine, I guess," Violet replies, not bothering to check out the menu.

"I bet you really love it," Emily smiles, knowing that Violet is nervous but won't say so.

Violet nods, chewing her lip, so Emily just gives her hand a quick squeeze.

"Can I grab you something to drink?" a server arrives.

"Double Maker's Mark," Violet replies, resting her chin in her hand casually. She lifts her thumb as she adds, "Up."

Emily gives her a dry look and then looks to the server.

"She's kidding," she informs the girl. "She'll have soda water with lime, and I'll have tea, please. Earl Grey."

The girl smiles and walks away, and Emily gives Violet a look that was perhaps meant to be straight-faced, but ends up an entertained grin.

The table of young girls next to them is gabbing noisily about something and Violet sighs, leaning against her hand with her elbow on the table so her back is facing them.

"Not interested in trying something new?" Emily asks, perusing the menu.

"Not really," Violet replies.

"Alright," Emily sings, drawing the word out to try and get Violet to change her mind.

The server arrives and sets their drinks down.

As Emily looks up to reach for a spoon, she catches a glimpse of someone outside the window, near the street.

Her heart stutters and she blinks rapidly several times.

"Mom?"

The person is gone. Or perhaps was never there — Emily's trying to play it off as paranoia, but she knows she needs to be watchful.

"Sorry," Emily says, paying attention to Violet and the server, who are waiting for her.

She orders and the server leaves. Violet eyes her mother carefully.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Emily replies.

Violet tilts her head, giving her mother a look that clearly says, 'Don't lie.' It's the same look Emily would give her.

"I thought I saw something," Emily replies, coming across as truthful. "Some guy taking a woman's purse. But he just picked it up for her."

Violet turns in her chair, looking behind her. Seeing nothing she turns back, and her mother is busily mixing sugar into her tea.

As they wait, they chat about Christmas and the upcoming '18th first day of school.'

The table of girls beside them is still noisy and Violet slowly closes her eyes, trying not to be irritated by them.

She takes her laptop out of her bag and opens it up.

"What are you doing?" Emily asks.

The girls at the next table start loudly declaring their allegiances to either Justin Bieber or One Direction.

Violet couldn't name a song by either one, and she's losing her patience.

Maintaining eye contact with her mother, she clicks a button on her computer. Iron Maiden's "Number of the Beast" starts playing. Loudly.

The young girls turn to frown at the music, clearly disgusted.

Emily hides her smile in her cup of tea as Violet stares, straight-faced, at the girls.

"Come on," one of them says to her friends. "Let's get out of here."

Miraculously, the little quartet gathers their stuff and leaves.

"You are…," Emily begins, laughing into her tea cup. "Amazing."

A half-smile appears on Violet's face as she closes her laptop.

"You mean you don't want a 'Belieber' or a One Direction-er for a daughter?" Violet asks.

"I got exactly who I wanted," she replies, winking at Violet.

* * *

Later that evening, they take Elizabeth to the airport.

She fusses over Violet as they stand at the gate.

"Let me know how your first day goes," she repeats for the fifth time. "And make sure they know which languages you already speak."

"I will," Violet replies.

"They have her transcripts, Mother," Emily adds.

"It can't hurt to remind them," Elizabeth replies. "You can't rely on some people these days."

"Noted," Emily replies, slinging her bag onto her shoulder.

"Oh," Elizabeth murmurs, reaching out to hug Violet again. "I love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, too, Grandma," Violet replies.

Elizabeth releases her and kisses her cheek, smiling at her for a moment before she turns to her daughter.

"Goodbye, dear," she says. "I love you."

She gives Emily a quick hug and a smile.

"Love you," Emily replies.

"We'll talk soon," Elizabeth adds.

"Have a good flight," Emily smiles, resting her arm around Violet's shoulders.

* * *

Back home, while Violet's showering and Emily knows she won't be overheard, she places an overseas call to an old friend.

"Emily," a surprised but even voice answers.

"Sia," Emily replies.

"How are you?"

"I'm really well," Emily replies. "And you?"

"Good. Things are good. Different without you here, though."

"Aw, you miss me that much?" Emily teases.

"Perhaps a small amount," Sia replies, a light laugh sounding. "How's Violet?"

"She's perfect," Emily replies. "Listen... She doesn't show up on any of my paperwork, right?"

"No," Sia answers. "As far as paperwork goes, you're a single woman, living in Europe, working for Interpol."

"Still?"

"I'm not sure they've added anything about your moving to the States," Sia replies.

"Good. I need it to stay that way."

"Alright. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Emily replies, doing her best to sound nonchalant. "I was just thinking about it today and wanted to make sure nothing had changed."

"Only the people you told even know that you have a daughter," Sia assures her.

"Great," Emily nods.

It's quiet for a moment.

"Emily, what's going on?" Sia asks gently.

"Nothing," Emily replies.

She hears the shower shut off upstairs.

"Listen, I've gotta run, but let's catch up soon," Emily says.

"Absolutely," Sia replies, still a little confused. "Take care."

Emily hangs up. She licks her lips nervously, staring up at the ceiling.

"It's fine," she whispers to herself.

"Mom! Where are the bandaids?" Violet calls.

"Cabinet in the bathroom," Emily replies, heading for the stairs. "How bad is this one?"

She reaches the top of the stairs and finds Violet, dressed in one of Emily's old t-shirts and panama pants, and sitting on the edge of the tub with tissue held to the outside of her ankle.

"I think I should just give up shaving my legs altogether," Violet replies. "Apparently I have the steady hand and coordination of a six-year-old with Parkinson's."

Emily lets out a breathy laugh, bending down.

"Let me see," she says, gently removing the tissue and examining the damage. "Oh, honey."

"I pulled a strip of skin out of the razor," Violet adds with a wrinkled nose, looking at the deep cut. "I seriously can't be trusted. I can read a novel in three hours and write a fabulous essay full of rhetoric and magic, but I can't seem to shave anywhere near my ankles."

Emily presses the tissue more firmly, trying to staunch the bleeding.

"I think it's time for you to join the world of the waxed," she says, holding Violet's ankle with one and gathering antiseptic and cotton pads with the other.

"I support that notion whole-heartedly," Violet replies, watching her mother work on the bleeding wound.

Emily lifts the tissue again.

"Oh, honey, you really carved some skin outta there," she says, her forehead creasing.

"Alright, alright, I suck at shaving. Don't rub it in," Violet replies, causing Emily to tilt her head at her and grin.

Violet just wanted to smooth the worried creases out of her forehead.

"It's just a scrape," she assures her mother. "It'll be fine."

"I don't care if it's a shaving cut or a paper cut," Emily says. "I hate it."

She picks up the antiseptic and the cotton pads.

"Are you ready for this?" she asks, looking at Violet.

"Just do it," Violet replies.

Emily wets the cotton pad and gingerly touches it to the wound.

At the sound of Violet inhaling rapidly in pain, Emily cringes.

"Mother—" Violet rasps. "NATURE."

"Well that's a new one," Emily says, trying to be thorough and fast all at once.

"Mmhmm. The last time I let the real thing slip, you made me eat avocado," Violet says, biting some of the words through her teeth.

"Hey, it worked," Emily replies. "You haven't said it since."

"Well, that's because avocado is disgusting," Violet replies, breathing harshly through the pain.

Her pain tolerance is on par with Emily's. They rarely cry from pain, unless it's the emotional kind.

"Alright, you little butcher," Emily sighs, foregoing the bandaids and just using medical tape to fasten gauze to Violet's ankle. "We'll bandage that as soon as it stops bleeding. Go get in my bed and I'll prop it up on some pillows while we watch a movie."

Violet gets up and bounces towards her mother's room.

"And not the one about the Romanov's!" Emily calls after her.

She hears Violet mutter an "Augghh," and smiles to herself as she drops the tissue in the trash and then heads to her room.


	26. Chapter 26

The first day at Newberry Hall creeps up faster than Violet thought it could.

That morning, she chews the inside of her cheek constantly as she gets dressed and rechecks her schoolbag for the millionth time.

By the time she gets downstairs, Emily is sipping tea and reading the paper, and a plate of scrambled eggs and toast is waiting for Violet.

"Do I look okay?" Violet asks, suddenly feeling more nervous than she's willing to let on.

Emily smiles at Violet, dressed in skinny black pants, a loose white sweater, scarf, and black military-style boots — her favourite pair of Steve Madden's.

"You look beautiful, honey," Emily replies. "Come on."

Violet walks over and sits beside her at the breakfast bar, Emily running a hand over Violet's long dark hair.

"I was always nervous my first day at a new school," Emily says gently. "Lord knows we've had enough of them."

Violet moves the eggs around her plate, barely eating any of them.

"Yeah but everyone at this school's going to know all of the Westminster kids," Violet murmurs. "We'll be like an exhibit at the zoo."

Emily rubs her back. "Hey," she says, waiting for Violet to look at her. "All of this — high school and the mean kids and awkwardness — it doesn't last. Everything gets so much better."

Violet takes a breath, wishing she could fast-forward to high school being over.

"I promise. You'll look back at this, these schools, the kids who think it's cool to act like jerks, and it'll seem like it went by so fast."

"Really? Because I wish it was over now," Violet mumbles, biting the corner off a piece of toast. "I was genuinely considering the home-school offer."

"Yeah?" Emily says.

"For about three minutes," Violet sighs. "Matthew would be miserable and…I dunno."

She shrugs.

"When would I get to wear my amazing clothes?" she says, keeping a straight face.

But her mother laughs and it makes Violet grin, knowing how ridiculous it sounds.

"Eat," Emily orders, folding up the newspaper. "You need breakfast."

Violet exhales and forces a few bites of egg down her throat. The queasiness takes over, though, and she abandons the plate half-full.

* * *

"Where's Matthew meeting you?" Emily asks, pulling into the ringed area for drop-offs.

"By that bike rack over there," Violet points, and they both see Matthew's tall, stylishly dressed frame.

Violet gathers her stuff, exhaling with the hope of expelling the anxiety in her chest. It doesn't work.

"Call me at lunch," Emily smiles encouragingly. She's nervous for Violet, but she knows that her daughter always fares well. She may not be the most popular — because she can't stand most teenage girls — but she's sweet and kind and smarter than any kid Emily's ever known. And she doesn't let anyone walk all over her.

"I will," Violet replies, undoing her seatbelt.

She reaches out and hugs her mother. Surprised, since she usually initiates the hugs lately, Emily just smiles and hugs her tightly.

"Je t'aime à la lune et retour," she says.

Violet smiles into her arms, wrapped around her mother's neck.

"Je t'aime plus," Violet murmurs.

They release and exchange smiles — Emily's encouraging and Violet's nervous — and then Violet hops out of the car.

* * *

"Right, we were going to discuss your language options," the principal, Mr. Braff, says, gathering Emily's schedule and other paperwork.

The one they had given her and her mother during their visit to the school had been changed last minute.

"You're quite the linguist, it seems," the handsome, middle-aged man grins. "Luckily, I have an option for you."

"Mandarin?" Violet asks, unable to keep the look of distaste from her face.

She and Emily had started to teach it to themselves a couple years ago, and they both hated it.

"No," Mr. Braff laughs. "Sign language."

"Really?" Violet's brow raises with interest.

"We have several hearing-impaired students, and that inspired a sign language course to happen, which has been ongoing for almost three years. Some students don't thrive on learning to speak a new language. Sign language is a draw for them, and a great second language to know. And as for you — I think it would be an excellent addition to your college applications."

Violet half-smiles. "Yeah, I'm definitely interested. Will it work with my schedule?"

"You bet," the principal replies, handing her several sheets of paper. "It's during the same block as your home economics class, but I figured you might be willing to sacrifice that one."

"Willing is an understatement," Violet replies dryly, looking at the new schedule.

Thankfully, she and Matthew still have most of their classes together.

"Well, I think you're set then," Mr. Braff says. "And early enough that you don't have to walk into your first class after it's already started."

"Thank you for that," Violet replies gratefully. "Really. That might be the worst part of…," she shakes her head. "School."

Mr. Braff chuckles.

"I've been there. No one likes it."

They head for the door. Violet can see Matthew, still waiting for her in the main office area.

"We're glad to have you here, Violet," Mr. Braff says kindly. "New schools are never fun — as you know — and I can't imagine what it's like coming back to school at all, after such a tragedy."

Violet nods, pushing the memory of the shooting out of her head.

"Thanks," she says, unsure of what else to say.

She holds up her schedule.

"And thanks for fixing my schedule."

"No problem," he nods. "Have a great first day."

* * *

"Like, actually nice, or secretly a huge dickhead nice?" Matthew asks, as they walk towards their first-period history class.

"Actually nice," Violet replies, referring to Mr. Braff. "Like he doesn't try to be cool or talk to kids like they're stupid."

"Well that's a change," Matthew says dryly.

"All of this is a change," Violet murmurs, taking in the scenery of Newberry Hall.

There's no linoleum or tile flooring here. It's hardwood, giving the school an odd, non-school-like feeling. Violet knows tuition is a little more expensive than Westminster, but she also knows that this is the only school in a 100-mile radius where Emily would feel safe leaving Violet.

Being a private school, there are less students and the teachers actually know the students. Westminster was private, but big. Newberry Hall also requires a certain GPA to even be accepted.

They find their history class and hide their surprise at the lack of individual desks. Instead, the students sit at tables arranged to create a U-shape, with everyone facing the teacher.

A smiling woman with hipster glasses and spiral-curled hair gets up from her desk.

"Hey guys," she says, gesturing them to come in. "You must be…Violet…and Matthew."

"Guilty," Matthew replies, smiling pleasantly.

"I'm Mrs. Willis," she chuckles, reaching out to shake their hands. "Welcome to Newberry Hall."

"Thanks," they murmur, glancing around the room.

"I'm guessing the seating arrangement is new for you," Mrs. Willis says. "But don't worry. There's no real assigned seating. Just pick a spot and settle in."

She smiles warmly as Violet and Matthew head for seats.

"Back corner," Matthew points. "Best vantage point."

"We're not scoping for terrorists," Violet replies, setting her bag on the table and sitting down.

"Aren't we though?" Matthew raises an eyebrow, sitting beside her. "Besides, I need to see what I'm working with here."

He means finding hot guys, and Violet just laughs as she gets out a binder.

Students start filing in, chattering busily as they take seats.

Violet hides her anxiety by busying herself with finding a pen, but inside she's nervous.

A girl sits down beside Violet, glancing at her as she takes out her books.

"You one of those Westminster kids?" she asks bluntly.

"Among other things," Violet replies, only glancing at the girl as she digs in her bag for her day-planner.

The girl seems to be appraising her as she chews her gum and looks at Violet.

Violet ignores her, focusing on Matthew, who starts talking about a guy who just walked in.

* * *

By lunchtime, Violet's not feeling so nervous. The kids pretty much keep to their own groups and there's no obvious bullying. She's talked to a few kids and they seem alright, but she didn't like the way the girl from history kept sizing her up.

As she and Matthew scan the cafeteria for a place to sit, Violet pops a tater tot into her mouth.

"Stomach stopped churning?" Matthew says, as they find a table and drop their bags.

"Almost," Violet replies, running a hand through her thick, raven hair. "But if I don't eat something I'm going to pass out or Hulk out."

Matthew laughs, setting down his lunch tray.

"Ugh," he mutters, creating a pool of mustard for his tater tots. "I'm so hungry I could eat the ass out of a dead skunk."

"That's disgusting," Violet replies, but she's used to his humour, and he loves her for not finding him weird or embarrassing.

Violet sees some people approaching out of the corner of her eye. When she looks up, she sees the girl from history and two others. They're all immaculately groomed and dressed.

"It's Violet, right?" the girl says.

"Mmhmm," is Violet's reply as she pops open a coke.

"Well, I just wanted to come and give you a little heads-up. About…attire, here at Newberry."

Violet takes a drink from the can.

"Oh yeah?" she asks.

The girls are all wearing girlish colours with ballet flats.

"We're a little less…alternative here," the girl begins, glancing down at Violet's boots.

"So, then what are you?" Matthew asks confidently. He backs down from no one, just like Violet.

"Well…," she begins, flipping her hair back. "Normal. Harmonious."

"Harmonious," Matthew repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"That's right," she replies coolly.

Matthew looks at Violet, and they share a faux-impressed look.

She looks back at Violet.

"What I mean to say is, I'm not sure that your entire outfit really fits in."

"Hmm," Violet hums, crossing her legs, relaxed. She sees the girl eye her boots again.

"Your boots are rather…mannish. Inappropriate."

"Oh, no," Violet says, her face matching her words as she places a hand near her chest. "Really?"

"Yes," the girl replies, all prim and proper and so much like a little Regina George that Violet wishes she could roll her in mud.

"Well," Violet exhales, she appears to consider this for a second, but then looks at the girl. "I guess it's a good thing I don't give a fuck."

The girl and her friends stare, shocked and apparently angry.

"That kind of language will get you-"

"Are you some kind of hall monitor?" Matthew asks. "Bylaw officer in training?"

The girl purses her lips and then turns on her heel, with her minions following close behind.

Matthew meets Violet's eyes and they burst out laughing, but quietly and to themselves.

"Oh we'll fit right in here," Matthew says, holding his can of coke towards Violet. "Game face, Prentiss."

They tap their cans together and then drink.

* * *

"What?" Emily frowns, walking away from the team as they discuss their current case, in Baltimore. "She told you that you couldn't wear them?"

"She told me I was mannish and inappropriate. And also alternative," Violet replies, sitting with Matthew in the student lounge.

"Who is this girl? Joan Rivers?"

"Before the 30 surgeries and 80 years of aging," Violet answers.

Emily scoffs, shaking her head.

"Dare I ask what your response was?" Emily says, her forehead already starting to crease.

"I told her I didn't care," Violet replies bluntly.

"Was that your verbatim response?" Emily asks directly.

Violet sighs. "Y'know, I can't remember," she replies, sticking a sucker into her cheek.

"Violet," Emily breathes, shaking her head.

"It's fine, Mom. She's just some moron who thinks she's in charge of everything," Violet replies.

"You are giving me gray hairs, kid," Emily says.

Violet rolls her eyes, pulling the sucker from her mouth.

"Don't worry. Everything's fine. It was one girl. It's not like I've made a name for myself or something."

"Well that would be fine," Emily replies. "How about striving for Girl with the Highest GPA, or Girl Who Writes the Best Essays."

"So far, I think I'm just Girl Who Hangs Out With Gay Guy," Violet replies bluntly.

Emily has to chuckle, but quietly so Violet doesn't hear.

"Just be good," she tells her. "Don't make me get out the avocados again."

Violet shudders even thinking about it.

"You're a monster," she tells her mother.

"Well," Emily says, seeing JJ gesturing at her. "This monster has to go back to work."

"Be careful," Violet replies.

"I will. You too. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

She hangs up and looks at Matthew, who's lying on a couch reading a magazine.

"What's your mom doing? Killing killers?"

"Probably," Violet replies, dropping her phone into her bag.

She glances around the student lounge for the fifth time. She still finds it hard to believe that the student's have a 'lounge.' It's really just a big carpeted area with couches and comfy chairs. Kids often spend their study halls here.

She looks over and sees a group of students doing some sort of timed test. Another group is brainstorming a presentation.

"Where are we?" she murmurs, leaning into the couch.

"Hell, darling," Matthew replies, flipping a page of his magazine. "Would you like a tour?"


	27. Chapter 27

Emily looks into the eyes of Erin Sharp, the mother of a missing teenage girl named Cassie.

"Ma'am, we're doing everything possible to find your daughter," Emily promises her.

Erin's blue eyes swim as she nods, doing her best to keep her chin from trembling.

Cassie is the 5th missing child in Baltimore in the last five years.

Spencer sits nearby, knowing that the likelihood of finding Cassie alive is dwindling by the hour. And she's already been gone for 12.

JJ leads Erin to an area where she can sit down, and gets her a cup of tea.

The team gathers in one of the meeting rooms of the Baltimore PD. Several boards surround them, holding photos and information on all five missing kids — all girls, all with dark hair and blue-green eyes.

They range in age from 10 to 15. Cassie is 13 — a little too close to home for Emily.

Their trail has lead them to an address.

"Gideon, you, Morgan, and Prentiss go to the house," Hotch decides. "If this is our guy and he's got Cassie, our time's running out. Garcia, what have you found on Cassie's phone?"

"It's still shut off, sir," Penelope replies over speakerphone. "The last location it was active was at the bus stop where she usually gets off."

Hotch stares at the board of info, focusing on the smiling face of Cassie Sharp.

"Alright. Keep us posted."

"Yes, sir," Penelope replies.

Emily steps away from the group to answer her cellphone. It's Violet, calling her at lunchtime like she asked.

A few moments later, JJ beckons her over. Emily finishes talking to Violet and joins the group.

"Cassie's phone just turned on," JJ tells her. "And was shut off almost immediately after."

"From where?" Emily asks.

"The address we got," JJ replies.

* * *

"You okay?" Derek asks Emily, as the three of them drive.

Emily glances at him. "Yeah. Fine. Why?"

"You just seem a little quieter than usual."

"What, do I never shut up most days?" Emily replies, curving her lips into a small grin.

"Well," Derek replies, giving her a shrug.

She laughs, small, turning to stare out the window again.

"How's Vi doing on her first day?" Derek asks. "Kickin' ass and taking names?"

Emily smiles, genuinely, a breathy laugh escaping her mouth. "You know Violet. She's a trooper."

"Yeah. Wonder where she got that from," Gideon replies, checking his phone. "House should be the third one on the right."

Derek slows down as they near a house in one of Baltimore's nicer neighbourhoods.

"Middle-class neighbourhood," Emily observes. "That's gotta make it harder to conceal a kidnapped child. People are usually more community-oriented."

"Maybe he's doing it at night," Derek replies as they get out of the SUV.

They approach the house and knock on the door.

"Sean Masterson?" Derek calls.

They wait.

"He's never home during the day," a voice calls out.

They turn their heads to see a woman on her porch next door.

"I'm sorry?" Emily asks.

"Sean. He's never around during the day" the woman answers. "Gets home really late."

"Ma'am, have you seen anybody with Sean recently?" Derek asks.

"No," she shakes her head, frowning. "He's not really the social type. Keeps to himself mostly. His parents died a couple years ago and left him the house."

Emily is already calling Garcia as Derek and Gideon move towards the woman along Sean's porch to talk to her.

"Queen P speaking," Penelope answers. "What can I do for Queen E?"

"Garcia, what do we know about Sean Masterson's parents?"

"Um," Penelope murmurs, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "Kenneth and Jessica Masterson, died in 2009…. Oh."

"What?"

"Says here that Jessica had a stroke at home. When the ambulance arrived, she was pronounced dead at the scene. That was in January. Kenneth Masterson was found dead in his truck, in August. Same year."

"In his truck?" Emily frowns.

"He…had shot himself. In the head."

Emily exhales. "January. Is that our stressor?"

"January 7th. That was yesterday," Penelope murmurs. "That was the day his mother died."

"The same day Cassie Sharp was kidnapped," Emily nods. "What about the other girls?"

"All four of the other girls were taken…on January 7th," Penelope says.

"Thanks, Garcia," Emily replies. "I'll call Hotch."

She hangs up and starts dialling Hotch as Derek and Gideon continue talking to the neighbour.

"Hotch, all five girls were taken on January 7th," Emily says when Aaron answers. "The same day that Sean Masterson's mother died."

"There's something else," Hotch replies. "Sean had a sister."

"What?" Emily asks. "That wasn't in his profile."

"That's because she died mysteriously when she was 11 years old. Sean was 13. It was ruled as accidental. Says she fell down the stairs. She died in 1997."

"Fell down the stairs?" Emily replies, an eyebrow raising.

"Are you at the Masterson's house?"

"Yeah. Derek and Gideon are talking to a neighbour. She says Sean's never around during the day. Says that he always comes home late at night."

"So no one sees who he's got with him," Hotch replies. "The warrant's coming. Get in the house."

Emily hangs up.

"Morgan! Gideon!" she calls.

They turn to look at her and she gestures with her towards the house.

"Warrant's on the way," she replies.

"Thank you for your time," Derek tells the neighbour.

"Is he in some kind of trouble?" the woman asks.

"Please, go inside. Everything's fine," Gideon tells her.

They go over to the front door with Emily. They glance at each other and then Derek fires his leg forward, busting open the door.

They start moving through the house, checking every corner.

"Living room's clear," Emily says, moving through a pair of French doors.

"Kitchen's clear," Derek adds.

They continue through a den-like room, the must have been Kenneth's office. On the desk are several pictures.

"This must be the daughter," Emily nods towards it.

"Dark hair, blue eyes," Derek says.

They move through the house with Gideon.

Upstairs is a bedroom that reminds Emily of the creepy, frozen-in-time bedroom of a former case. It's obviously the parents' room, though not as immaculately kept as that other case. It's furnishings are modern and typical.

Down the hall is what must be Sean's room. It's tidy and clean, with a desk covered in notebooks and a computer.

Emily picks up a notebook marked _Rebecca (2)_. She flips through it and sees constant notes about "Rebecca's" behaviour, everything from the time she wakes up, what foods she won't eat, and what she says to the writer, which has to be Sean.

Emily sets the notebook down and picks up the next one. _Rebecca (3)_. It contains the same style of information, but the information itself is different.

"What was the daughter's name?" Emily asks Derek.

"Rebecca. Why?"

Emily holds up five notebooks. "He's trying to replace her. That's what the girls are for. He's trying to make them into Rebecca."

Emily stacks the notebooks for the police to gather, stopping to open the one marked _Rebecca (6)_.

"This is Cassie," Emily murmurs, reading quickly. "Listen to this: _Picked up from bus stop. She was annoyed with me — typical little sister._"

"He actually thinks they're his sister," Derek replies.

"Then where are the other four girls?" Gideon asks.

They go through the rest of the house and the basement, but it's all clear.

"Her phone is here somewhere," Emily says. "Penelope got an alert from this location."

Derek nods towards the backyard. "Let's keep looking."

The backyard is poorly kept, with long grass and messy flowerbeds. It must have been beautiful at one time. Part of the yard was used for a garden, but the soil sits heaped and empty of any plants.

They approach a small shed. Inside are typical items, shovels, gardening tools, a rickety lawnmower.

As they move to leave, Emily trips. Derek's arm shoots out to steady her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Emily replies, looking down. "I tripped on this stupid-"

She stops, bending down to shove an old piece of plywood aside. Her mouth parts as she looks up at Derek, who stares intently.

"Gideon," he calls. "You gotta see this."


	28. Chapter 28

Violet arrives home to an empty house.

She locks the door and resets the alarm. It's like a reflex, she's been doing it since she can remember.

She grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and an apple from the island before making her way to the couch.

"Hey Sergio," she murmurs, as the cat hops up beside her to be cuddled. "And how was your day?"

Sergio replies with a meow.

"Oh yeah?" Violet replies. "The entire day?"

He meows again.

"On my bed, huh? You lucky little guy."

She pets him and he settles into her lap, purring.

She flips on the TV and starts pulling homework out of her bag.

* * *

The trapdoor is obviously meant to be hidden, but Sean didn't cover it well enough with the plywood.

Derek swings it open, revealing a ladder.

They look at each other, share a look, and then Derek begins to climb down.

Outside, Emily can hear the sound of the rest of the BAU arriving, with the police.

"Guys?"

Emily sticks her outside the shed. "JJ. Over here."

"Back here!" she calls behind her, into the house.

She jogs over to the shed.

"What do you have?"

"We're about to find out," Emily replies, dropping her gaze with JJ's, to the entrance to the hidden room.

They climb down after Gideon, flashlights out and leading their way.

Their eyes scour every inch of the place as soon as they set foot in it.

"Look," JJ says, bending down to pick up a bracelet with her gloved hand. "Melody Brown's mother said she was wearing a bracelet."

She pulls a little bag out of her pocket and drops the bracelet inside.

They continue on, but are stopped short, when another door blocks their way.

"Is this throughout the entire backyard?" Emily says.

"It's gotta be," Derek replies. "And it's been here for awhile. Look at this doorknob."

The knob is outdated, maybe from the '80s.

They try it, but it's locked, not surprisingly.

A few kicks from Derek and it finally gives.

The room is so big that the beams of their flashlights don't even reach a wall.

They hear Hotch and Reid arrive behind them, coming through the door silently.

"Sean Masterson?" Derek calls.

Silence.

"Cassie?" JJ calls.

Silence.

They start following the walls, trying to see something.

They hear something move and their guns and lights move almost together to shine towards a corner.

Then, suddenly, there's light. A lamp in the corner, beside a bed. It doesn't light up the entire underground room, but it allows them to see Sean Masterson, holding a knife to Cassie Sharp's throat.

"Put the knife down, Sean," Derek orders.

Sean breathes heavily, his grip on the terrified teenager not budging. Her mouth is taped shut and tears stream from her eyes.

"You don't have to hurt her, Sean," Emily calls out.

"She's not doing it right!" Sean barks, and then blinks rapidly, looking extremely agitated.

"What's that?" Derek asks.

"She's—she's different. Rebecca would never swear at me. Never."

"Rebecca died 17 years ago, Sean," Hotch replies. "Trying to replace her will never get you anywhere."

Sean looks confused as he frowns at them. He raises the hand with the knife to wipe the back of his hand across his sweating forehead.

"No," he mutters. "No. She just fell. It was an accident, but she's okay."

"Sean. Let the girl go," Derek orders.

"She's supposed to come home from school, and—and we eat peanut butter and banana sandwiches. That's what we do," he says, his speech rushed and panicky. "But she won't _do _it! She won't eat it!"

"That's because she can't, Sean," JJ replies. "The girl you're holding is named Cassie. She's 13 years old. She can't eat the peanut butter because she's allergic to peanuts."

Sean stares at JJ as through this is preposterous.

"What? Don't be silly. Rebecca doesn't have allergies. And she's 11. She's 11."

"Just put down the knife, man, and we can talk about this," Derek says.

"M-m…Mom says it just takes time. She hit her head, so she forgot some things. But she'll remember," Sean nods rapidly. "She'll remember."

The team maintains their positions, each gun locked on Sean.

"Maybe she'll remember if she gets some sleep," Reid speaks up. "I bet she's really tired, Sean. She just needs to rest."

Sean considers this and then nods a few times, rapid and short. "Yeah. Mom says she needs her rest. Mom always said that."

"Okay, so let's go put Rebecca to bed," Reid says calmly. "Her bed's all ready upstairs, and I bet she's really tired."

Sean rubs his forehead again, debating this.

"No," he shakes his head. "This is where we have to keep Rebecca when she misbehaves, when she doesn't listen. This is what we have to do now. The accident hurt her head, so she has to come here when she's bad."

"I'm sure Rebecca didn't mean to misbehave," Emily says. "I bet she's really sorry she upset you, and she just wants to get some sleep now because she's tired. I bet she just has a headache and it's making her cranky."

Sean considers this. "Headaches give her a bad mood," he nods. "She needs medicine and some warm milk. That's what Mom gives us."

"Okay, well let's go inside and get her some," Emily replies.

She slowly holsters her gun and then holds her empty hands up.

"Let's take Rebecca inside and get her some medicine and warm milk."

She slowly steps towards Sean. His anxiety has made him sweaty and flustered. Emily glances for a second into Cassie's eyes, and immediately wishes she hadn't. The look in her eyes is something that she hates having to see.

She holds her arms out slightly towards Sean and Cassie as she moves forward.

"Come on," she murmurs gently.

Sean rubs his forehead again, and as he does, his other hand comes up, so his entire head is wrapped in his palms.

As soon as that arm is off of Cassie, Emily reaches out and snags her away.

The team is poised for Sean to lunge towards Emily. They hate it, but they know they'll have to shoot him if he does.

Instead, he sinks to the earthen floor and begins rocking.

When Derek reaches him, he grabs the knife and immediately cuffs Sean.

* * *

Emily waits with Cassie as a paramedic looks at her. Her mother is on the way but Emily knows she can't leave the girl alone. She's been shaking ever since Emily grabbed her away from Sean.

"There are more," Cassie says, her voice hollowed by her tears. She raises her blue eyes to meet Emily's, and all Emily sees is the exact same pair of eyes she looked into this morning.

"What?"

"There are more girls," she repeats. "But they're all dead."

Emily frowns, taking in this information.

"That's what the room is for," Cassie tells her. "That's where they stay."

A moment later, Erin Sharp is rushing up to them, hugging her daughter and crying.

Emily steps away to give them space.

She walks over to where Hotch is talking to the chief of police.

"We need to get a team down in that room," she tells him.

He waits for her to continue.

"I think that's where he buries them."

* * *

What they find in the underground room is worse than any of them expected.

Along with the remains of the four other girls, are the skeletons of 12 others.

With Penelope's digging and Reid's quick mind, they discover that the Masterson's have been trying to "replace" Rebecca ever since she died.

Twelve young girls went missing from 1997 to 2008, each of them taken on November 5th — the day that Rebecca died.

Altogether, 17 girls have been taken, and only Cassie Sharp escaped death.

After Sean's mother died, the heaviest of his grief shifted to the memory of his mother, and he took over the work that his parents had been doing. Every year, a new Rebecca was taken, and within a few months, she was deemed a fraud and disposed of. All of them in the underground room.

* * *

On the plane ride back to Virginia, the team is quiet as they think about everything that happened.

"I guess the only silver lining is all of those parents who get closure," Derek murmurs.

Emily is silent. All she wants is to get home. She just needs to hold Violet.

"Sixteen girls," JJ says softly. She shakes her head. "And all this time, no one noticed that Sean was so unstable?"

"After his parents died, he just lived in that house. Didn't have to work, didn't have to see anyone," Hotch replies. "People only thought he was at work because he was coming and going rarely and at odd hours."

"It's unbelievable," JJ says.

"It's actually pretty amazing that he's gone this long, with that kind of mental illness," Reid speaks up. "But he spent so long knowing that his parents were doing that, so when they were gone, he just went into a sort of lapse. He went through the motions, came across as awkward and quiet, but still appearing fine."

The team sinks into a silence as the plane races towards Virginia.

* * *

It's a short flight, thankfully, and Emily barely says a word as she stops at her desk before heading for the door.

"Prentiss," Derek catches up to her in the elevator. "Hey."

She refuses to look at him as the elevator doors close.

"Rough day," he says quietly, knowing.

She nods, still not making eye contact. Her eyes are almost swimming and she won't let him see that.

"Yeah," she replies.

The elevator opens and they step out.

Derek reaches out and squeezes her arm.

"Get some rest," he says. "You saved a life today."

She attempts a small smile as she walks to her car.

* * *

It's past midnight by the time she pulls into the underground lot. She looks in the rearview mirror and closes her eyes slowly when she sees her red eyes and the mascara under her bottom lashes.

She hardly ever cries, but today it had to happen. Luckily she held off until she was out of the Quantico parking lot.

She knows Violet won't be awake but she won't walk into the loft looking like this.

She sweeps a tissue underneath her eyes and blinks until the tears disappear.

* * *

She glances in Violet's room, and the bed is still made. She walks into hers and feels every part of her body release some of the tension it's been holding all day. She watched a woman almost lose her baby today, but Emily's baby is right here, curled into Emily's bed with the blankets kicked off and her skinny legs taking up all the room.

She kicks off her boots and climbs into bed without even changing into pyjamas.

Facing Violet, she reaches out and smooths a lock of hair back from her face. She runs her thumb down the porcelain skin of her cheek, not wanting to wake her but unable to shake the need to gather Violet in her arms.

Violet's lashes move and her eyes barely open.

"Hi," she whispers, still half-asleep.

"Hi baby," Emily replies, her eyes filling. "Go back to sleep."

Violet snuggles into her mother and Emily wraps her in her arms, pressing her lips to Violet's forehead.

"I love you," she murmurs.

"Mmm mm," Violet mumbles.

Emily smiles and takes a deep breath, all of the anxiety and fear seeping from her body.


	29. Chapter 29

Friday after school, Violet and Matthew decide to spend their evening in Emily's closet.

Matthew is still wanting to try out drag, and Violet is pretty much up for anything.

"When will she be home?" Matthew asks, as they stand before Emily's large walk-in closet.

"I dunno," Violet shrugs. "She actually got to stay in the state today, so probably around 5:00 or 6:00."

"So she like, flies all over the country? Like all the time?" Matthew says.

"Yeah," Violet replies, turning on the light in the closet. "Ignore this side of the closet. It's all work stuff. Button-up shirts and 'slacks'."

She uses her fingers to mock the word, and faces the opposite side of the closet.

"This is where you wanna be. She's got some Chanel in here, a bunch of fancy French designers. Diane von Furstenburg. Some other European stuff."

"Well I wish I could wear that black dress of _yours_," Matthew says, flipping through hangers.

"Yeah, well, your dude chest doesn't fit into a dress tailored to my wiry bod. Boo hoo," Violet replies, pulling out a black dress of Emily's.

"That is hot," Matthew nods. "Will it fit me?"

"Let's see," Violet shrugs.

A few moments later, Violet is zipping up the back of the dress, which is cut with a V-neck and meant to show off cleavage. In Matthew's case, he's obviously lacking.

"Well this looks stupid," Matthew says, poking the empty boustier.

"Welcome to my world," Violet replies dryly, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. "Stuff some socks in there or something. Hold on."

Matthew considers it and then takes the socks that Violet returns with.

"Also, say you do decide to show up in drag somewhere, or go to an event or whatever…what do you plan on doing with your junk?" Violet asks matter-of-factly.

"Apparently there's an art to it," Matthew replies, turning to see his reflection in the mirror. "I watched a YouTube video about it."

"I know the basics of it," Violet makes a face. "It doesn't sound very enjoyable."

"C'est la vie," Matthew replies.

"La vie," Violet answers.

"Ha. Nice," Matthew grins.

He looks back in the mirror, and Violet stands beside him, appraising him.

"You actually look awesome," Violet nods. "Your legs are all long and lean, and your shoulders look really good. Not muscly and gross."

"The benefits of being the skinny kid," Matthew replies dryly.

"You said it, sister," Violet agrees, walking away from the mirror. "It's a curse."

They go into Violet's room and sit on the floor in front of the mirror, where Violet always sits to do her makeup.

"So I'm thinking a smokey eye, candy-apple lips, and huge lashes," Matthew says. "And contouring, obviously."

"I can do all of that, but I'm new to contouring," Violet replies, sitting in front of him, so he can't see himself, and plucking things from her makeup container.

"Between the two of us, we've got this," Matthew shrugs.

* * *

An hour later, Violet puts the finishing touches on Matthew's face. She's never worn as much makeup as she's put on Matthew's face, but she has to admit, he looks awesome.

His blue eyes are large and his lashes were easy to enhance; his nose is long and straight; his cheekbones are perfect, and his lips are full and look great with a deep red lipstick.

Violet brushes a layer of powder over top of his face, to set the foundation, and then gets out her blush and applies it liberally.

A moment later, she clips the blush shut and smiles happily at Matthew.

"I can't decide if it's more than I'm _really _good at makeup, or you just made it easy with your perfect face," she shakes her head.

His back to the mirror, Matthew stands up, eager to see the finished product.

"Ho. Ly. Fuck," he says, staring.

The two of them don't even hear Emily arrive home and come upstairs.

"Uh," she stares, only seeing a part of Matthew's reflection but enough to let her know that there's a guy in her dress. "What's goin' on?"

Violet and Matthew turn to face her.

"I should probably forget Ivy League and just become a makeup artist," Violet replies, raising her hands and then crossing her arms.

"Absolutely not," Emily replies before focusing on Matthew. "Is that my dress?"

"Yes," Matthew replies. "I hope it's okay. I couldn't get into anything of Violet's. The bodices were all too tiny."

"Still waiting on the rest of my boobs to come in," Violet adds with a shrug. "Really fill them out so I can get outta the B-cup club."

Emily closes her eyes, giving her head a shake. "Okay."

"Do you think I can pull it off?" Matthew asks, hands on his hips as he strikes a girlish pose.

Emily considers this and has to give a slow nod. "Yeah," she replies.

Matthew smiles excitedly, clapping his hands and then hugging Violet.

"So, Emily, what's your shoe size?" he asks, hinting obviously.

Emily chortles, shaking her head. "I don't think you'll fit my shoes, honey," she replies, watching Matthew's shoulders drop slightly. "But we can try."

They head into Emily's room, where Violet hops onto the bed and lies on her stomach, facing them.

"These are are a 9," Emily says, digging a pair of strapped sandals out of her closet. "The biggest I have."

Matthew sits on the bed and struggles, but his feet obviously don't fit. He squishes his toes in and lets his heels hang off the back.

"We can at least get the effect," he says, standing in front of the full-length mirror.

Emily stands beside him, examining his reflection, as Violet looks from the bed.

"Well, I gotta say, Matthew," Emily says, hands on her hips as she looks at him. "You make a beautiful woman."

* * *

Matthew changes out of the dress but keeps the makeup on. The three of them go downstairs to watch TV while Emily orders dinner.

"Hey, what about a drag name?" Violet asks, passing Matthew a can of coke and jumping onto the couch beside him.

"I've thought about it," Matthew replies, wrinkling his lip. "But nothing sounds perfect."

"What's the…criteria for a drag name?" Emily asks, sitting across from them in an armchair.

"It's usually a play on words, or something dirty or funny. Like Peaches Christ or Mimi Imfurst."

Emily almost chokes on her wine.

"There's a really hilarious and amazing one on that RuPaul show, named Alaska Thunderfuck," Violet adds.

"Violet!" Emily looks at her with wide Mom eyes.

"It's her name!" Violet replies, raising her palms innocently.

"Alaska Thun-" Emily starts to repeat, but then closes her eyes and gives her head a shake. She takes a drink of wine. "That's…something else."

"Also, there's one named Detox, but I can't say her last name without giving you an aneurysm," Violet says.

"When have you watched a show about drag queens?" Emily asks, frowning with curiosity.

"I PVR it, so it's just there when I have time to watch it. You'd actually love it, Mom. It's hilarious."

"True story," Matthew replies, his legs crossed and his face still perfectly done up.

"I have to say, Matthew," Emily replies, looking at him. "I've never sat and had a conversation with a guy wearing flawless makeup."

"Happy to oblige your bucket list," Matthew replies, turning his head towards her and lifting one shoulder in a pose.

Emily chuckles, getting up and going to sit beside Violet.

"Alright, put on this show. Now I'm curious," she tells her.

Violet grins and picks up the remote control.


	30. Chapter 30

On Saturday, Emily is up early. She's never been one to sleep late, and her schedule at the BAU has her sleep messed up.

She finds the folder she keeps hidden in her closet and takes it downstairs, where she sits at the island with her coffee.

She takes everything out, arranging the items in front of her. Several documents, two photographs, and a transcript.

She reads carefully, even though she's read it enough to know it by heart.

He's been in prison since 2003.

But when she looks at his photograph, her stomach tightens. It's the same face she swears she keeps seeing.

Except every time she blinks, it's gone again.

* * *

Around noon, Emily goes into Violet's bedroom and leans over her sleeping daughter.

Violet's long dark hair is tossed across her pillow and part of her face. Emily smoothes it back, revealing Violet's pale cheek.

"Hey," Emily whispers. "Sleeping beauty. You plan on getting out of bed today?"

"Mmmm," Violet groans, burrowing further into her blankets.

"Je vais vous faire le petit déjeuner," Emily sings quietly.

Violet grumbles again, rolling over.

"Come on, honey," Emily prods, amused by Violet's typical morning behaviour. "We promised Penelope we'd meet her at 1:00."

"It's too early," Violet groans.

"It's almost noon," Emily laughs, walking over to the window.

She pushes open the curtains, looking down into the courtyard of the building.

"I had a dream we were still in France," Violet breathes, finally opening her eyes and looking at her mother.

"Yeah? How was it? You always loved Paris in January."

Violet makes a face and Emily laughs. Violet hated the first months of the year in Paris.

"It was summer, so I knew it wasn't real. So I just went shopping along the Champs Elysees. It was amazing. I bought Hermes and Chanel and Louis. Ahh. Amazing."

"Ha," Emily laughs, walking back over to the bed. "That must have been your second clue that it wasn't real."

"Well it wasn't typical stuff anyways," Violet replies, sitting up on her elbows. "It was stuff _I'd _wear, not you."

"What does that mean?" Emily chuckles, frowning.

"That my style is cooler than yours," Violet breathes, falling back onto the pillow and pulling the blanket over her head.

Emily smiles, pulling the blanket back down as she passes to leave the room.

"Come on, baby," she says. "You've got half an hour."

* * *

Violet bounces downstairs almost exactly half an hour later, looking more like a lively teenager and less like the tired grouch Emily just saw.

She sits next to Emily and pours a glass of orange juice.

"Where are we going?"

"A coffee house downtown," Emily replies, pushing a plate of eggs and toast towards Violet. "Penelope's favourite."

"Are we going shopping?"

"What could you possibly need?" Emily laughs.

"You don't wanna play that game with me," Violet replies, stabbing a forkful of eggs. "I always win."

"I've ruined you," Emily says, looking at Violet almost sadly.

"How?" Violet frowns.

"Taking you shopping in Europe during those vital, influential years," Emily sighs, shaking her head.

"Ruined me? You only made me more awesome," Violet replies, smiling at her mother through a mouthful of breakfast.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Emily nods, smiling at Violet.

She fills in another answer on her crossword puzzle.

"Did you call your grandmother back?" she asks, writing.

"Mmhmm," Violet mumbles. "She, too, was unimpressed with my first day tales."

"How much did you tell her?" Emily raises an eyebrow.

"Exactly what I told you," Violet shrugs. "That Regina George incarnate told me I dress like a lesbian, and that I told her I couldn't care less what she thought."

"Verbatim, huh?" Emily asks, amused.

"Oui, Maman," Violet replies, smiling mischievously when her mother eyes her. "I also told her that Matthew fit into your Ralph Lauren dress."

Emily chuckles. "Oh, great. Thank you for that."

"She was surprisingly receptive to that part, actually," Violet replies thoughtfully. "I think she kind of loves Matthew."

"It would be hard not to," Emily replies, finishing the crossword and folding it aside. "He's not lacking for charisma."

Violet grins, eating another bite of eggs.

Emily stands up, her eye catching the folder, still sitting on the island.

Being as inconspicuous as possible, she drops the folded newspaper on top of it and then slides them both into her hands.

"You ready to go?"

Violet nods, taking a bite of toast before dropping the rest of the piece on the plate and standing up.

"Take your vitamins," Emily reminds her, nodding towards the pills beside Violet's plate.

She heads upstairs, relieved that Violet didn't find the folder.

* * *

"Do you have to work all summer?" Violet asks, as Emily drives.

"I'm not sure," Emily replies. "I haven't talked about it with Hotch. Why, what's up?"

"Just wondering," Violet answers, staring out the window. "You said we'd go back to Europe."

Emily glances at her, hearing the tone of sadness in Violet's voice.

"We will," Emily promises.

Violet meets her eyes and then looks back out the window.

"You haven't really talked about it much," Emily goes on.

Violet shrugs. "We're here now."

"I know. But we can still talk about it."

Violet chews her lip.

"Luc emailed me," she says.

Emily's relieved to see a hint of a smile on Violet's lips.

"He can email? I thought he hated technology?"

"He does," Violet laughs. "Half of his email was about how much he hates it."

Emily grins, remembering the old Parisian man who used to play chess with Violet.

"His daughters came and saw him at Christmas," Violet goes on.

"Wow. It's been, what, six years?"

"Yeah," Violet exhales. "He was so worried about Christmas sucking, but he ended up having a great one."

"He was worried because it was the first one he wasn't going to spend at our house, in four years," Emily chuckles.

Violet laughs.

"And worried because his favourite chess opponent was going to be an ocean away," Emily adds.

Violet smiles, staring off as she remembers the surly old man who was secretly sweet and funny.

"I miss him," she says quietly.

"I know, honey," Emily replies gently, reaching over to cover Violet's hand with hers. "We'll go visit him. I have to say, I miss having a crotchety old Frenchman stand over my shoulder and tell me how to make his tea."

Violet laughs.

"Ah, Emily. Vous mettez autant de sucre. Je suis assez doux, non?" she says, adopting a husky, masculine tone to emulate Luc's voice.

Emily laughs, shaking her head.

"That guy," she says.

They reach the street where the coffee house is and Emily finds a parking spot.

A few moments later, they're headed down the street, passing random shops.

Violet's pace slows considerably as they pass a shoe store.

Pausing, Emily takes two steps backwards and slings an arm around Violet's shoulders.

"Keep moving, baby," she says dryly. "You have enough shoes."

"There's no such thing," Violet replies, turning her head to try and see over her mother's arm.

Emily places a hand on Violet's cheek, forcing her to face forward.

"There is when our front door is surrounded by only half of your collection, and I can still barely get through the sea of them," she replies.

She squeezes Violet towards her, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

They get closer to the coffee shop just as Penelope appears, coming around the corner from the opposite direction.

She smiles happily when she sees them.

"Prentiss's," she grins, giving Violet a hug. "How are you lovely ladies this afternoon?"

"It's still morning for this one," Emily replies, as they head into the store. "She's only been up for an hour."

"And a half," Violet adds, looking around the coffee shop.

"Ah, to be a teenager," Penelope sighs.

"It's not as grandiose as it seems," Violet replies, standing on her toes to see a corner where several cushy chairs are positioned. "I'm gonna snag those chairs."

She heads over, leaving her mother and Penelope to head to the counter to order.

"I'm trying to remember the last time I heard someone under the age of 40 say 'grandiose'," Penelope muses as they get in line.

"It's a wasted effort," Emily replies. "It's best just to accept my child as the old soul she is."

"She's amazing," Penelope smiles.

Emily grins, fishing out her wallet. "I'll agree, but apparently I'm biased."

"Nah," Penelope waves dismissively. "It's unanimous."

Emily smiles and then looks up at the colourful chalkboards announcing the menu.

"So this is the place you say has the best coffee in the country, huh?" Emily scans the board.

"Yes," Penelope nods once. "I have it on good authority that it is, and I'm always right."

Emily chuckles.

"Derek can go on and on about how I have a problem, but a coffee addiction isn't an addiction. It's a lifestyle."

"Agreed," Emily replies.

"Also, the owners are this adorable old Colombian couple, and Lupe, the wife, is probably the greatest cook slash baker on the planet. She makes these little cream puffs that taste like heaven on your tongue."

"You had me at Colombian," Emily replies.

They reach the counter and a dark-haired man in his 20s smiles brightly when he sees Penelope.

"Penelope!" he says in accented English. "Como estas?"

"Bien," Penelope smiles happily. "Y usted?"

"Ah, muy bien," he nods.

"Um, Pablo," Penelope begins, speaking slow Spanish. "Esta es mi amiga, Emily."

"Hola," Pablo smiles at Emily. "Bienvenido."

"Gracias," Emily replies. "Este lugar es hermoso."

Pablo looks surprised by Emily's flawless accent. He glances at Penelope, impressed.

"Hablas español maravilloso. Donde aprendiste?" he asks.

"Pase algún tiempo en Espana cuando era mas joven," Emily responds.

Penelope looks on proudly as her friends converse.

"And now you live here, and you know our lovely Penelope," Pablo grins.

"I do," Emily replies. "She's quite the girl."

"We love Penelope," Pablo goes on. "She come everyday. Mama makes the cream puff just for her."

Penelope's hand goes to her chest as she smiles, touched. "Pablo!"

He just grins proudly.

"What do I get for you today?" he asks.

Emily hums for a minute, glancing at the menu again as Penelope orders.

"What will Violet have?" she asks.

"Anything," Emily replies dryly. "She was born with her mother's taste for coffee."

A few moments later they're heading to the corner with full hands.

They reach the spot and Emily freezes, seeing Violet's bag…but no Violet.

She snaps her head to the side, scouring the room.

Meanwhile, Penelope is setting down her coffee on the table.

Emily searches the room, her stomach clenching in fear.

"Emily?" Penelope says, frowning in confusion at Emily's pale face.

"Where is she?" she says firmly, her eyes darting around.

Penelope reaches a hand out to place on Emily's arm.

"Emily?" she repeats, worried.

"Violet," Emily snaps. "Where's Violet?"

Penelope reaches an arm up and then Violet is there, with Penelope's hand on her back.

"She's right here," Penelope says slowly, wondering why Emily is so worked up.

Relief plays upon Emily's face as she sees her daughter.

"Mom," Violet says, her forehead creasing to mirror her mother's.

Penelope and Violet stare at her, and Emily tries to erase the panic and fear from her face.

"Are you okay?" Penelope asks gently, reaching out again to touch Emily's arm.

"Yeah," Emily replies quickly, setting the coffees down. "I'm fine."

Penelope glances at Violet for an explanation, but finds only equal confusion on the girl's face. They exchange a look and Violet lightly shrugs at her before going to sit down.

Penelope looks at Emily carefully as she sits in one of the chairs.

She's never seen such utter fear coat Emily's features so suddenly and so completely. Penelope had seen Violet cross the room and go into the restrooms; she'd assumed that Emily had as well. Penelope sits down in the chair next to Emily's, carefully watching her.

Emily can feel them both looking at her curiously, but she offers no explanation.

Even when Penelope's hand reaches out to touch the arm of Emily's chair, Emily just looks up at her and smiles, as though everything is normal.

But then she reaches out and runs her hand down Violet's forearm, giving her hand a tight squeeze before she shrugs out of her jacket.

Violet glances at her mother, wondering why she's been acting so strangely, so randomly, but Emily just smiles, appearing fine, so Violet and Penelope follow suit.


	31. Chapter 31

The next week at school, Violet and Matthew hang out in the student lounge during lunch.

"I think my mom's going insane," Violet muses thoughtfully, stretched out on a couch as Matthew sits on the floor beside her, studying for an exam.

"What?" Matthew frowns.

"She's so weird lately," Violet replies, meeting his confused stare. "We were at this coffee house on the weekend and I went to the bathroom, and thought she saw me go, and she was acting like I'd been kidnapped or something. I mean, she was legitimately terrified."

"Well you were basically held at gunpoint at school," Matthew replies. "Most parents would get kind of clingy after that."

"Did yours?" Violet replies.

"Uh, no," Matthew chuckles. "But my parents are the exception. My mother only recently accepted my sexuality. I'm sure the next step, somewhere along the way, is blatant protective instincts."

Violet gives him a sympathetic look.

"Besides, your mom sees all kinds of terrifying shit on a weekly basis. She knows what she's up against, as far as parenting goes. She probably just gets freaked out somedays."

"I guess," Violet mumbles.

Violet looks up as Kaya, the girl who last week commented on Violet's clothing choices, enters the lounge. Her two minions follow close behind.

"Look alive," Violet murmurs, seeing Kaya spot them and start heading over.

Matthew sighs, but not with exasperation. Almost with enticement.

"Hey Kaya," he grins as she stops in front of them. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company? Are we dressed to your standards today?"

Surprisingly, Kaya smiles pleasantly. "Matthew. Violet. I just wanted to come by and apologize for last week. I was rude."

Violet and Matthew respond by staring at her, masking their surprise with boredom.

"I consider myself an ambassador for the school, and I should have been more welcoming to you both as new students. Especially given the circumstances of your transferring."

"Wow," Matthew says, nodding slowly. "I never took you for a person with…human-like qualities."

Kaya looks almost sheepish.

"I feel really bad," she adds. "I hope you'll accept my apology."

Matthew slowly turns to face Violet. His simper makes Violet let out a breathy laugh.

"Don't worry about it," Violet tells Kaya. "It made for a good first-day tale of woe."

"I was hoping we could be friends," Kaya continues.

Violet doesn't hide her surprise; her eyebrows raise. But then they settle back into a curious glare.

"Is this the part where you ask us to sit with you at lunch?"

Kaya laughs. "You're so funny," she shakes her head. "I was actually hoping you'd both come to a party I'm having this weekend."

Matthew and Violet consider her.

"What are the parameters of a Newberry Hall house party?" Matthew asks, fiddling with his pen.

"Pretty basic," Kaya shrugs. "Music, drinks, hanging out."

"Will the cyborgs be attending?" Violet asks.

"The what?" Kaya frowns.

Violet gestures at the two girls who she has yet to hear speak.

"Oh, you mean Gianna and Kinsley? Of course," she smiles.

"Aw, you named them," Matthew coos.

Kaya seems to struggle to smile and look amused. "They're just very quiet. Pretty shy."

She looks back and smiles at the girls, who respond with small smiles of their own.

"They're very lifelike," Violet nods.

"Are you guys going to come or not?" Gianna asks, one hand coming to rest on her hip as she juts it out impatiently.

Violet and Matthew raise their brows, surprised and amused.

"It speaks," Matthew turns to whisper at Violet.

"I can't," Violet replies to Gianna. She looks at Kaya. "Thanks for the invite, though."

Kaya chews her lip for a moment before stepping forward to sit in the chair adjacent to the couch where Violet sits.

Surprised, Violet stares.

"Look. I really want you guys to come," she says, her regular tone replaced with a more realistic, almost begging one.

Violet looks at her, frowning slightly, before a slow nod moves her head.

"What do you want?" she asks, knowing.

"What?" Kaya frowns, looking surprised and a bit guilty.

"What do you want?" Violet repeats. "That's what this is about, right? The random change of heart and invitation? Either you're going to try and pull a Carrie-bloodbath prank, or you want something that one of us can get you."

Kaya exhales and then rolls her eyes, her shoulders dropping their upright position.

"Look, you're friends with Braden, right?"

Violet makes a face. "What?"

Kaya inconspicuously raises a finger to point towards a corner of the lounge where Braden, the boy from Westminster, is laughing with his new group of Newberry friends.

"No," Violet replies bluntly.

Kaya looks confused. "He said you guys were friends."

Violet lets out a short, amused laugh. "If by 'friends' he means we went to the same school before and passed each other in the halls at random intervals…then yes. We're the best of friends."

"Didn't you talk that kid with the gun out of killing him?" Kaya asks frankly.

Violet's brows raise in surprise. "Um," she begins, her eyes moving to meet Matthew's, which are now burning into Kaya with dislike.

He stands up, slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaning down to pull Violet up by her arm.

"This conversation is over," he tells Kaya shortly.

Her lips part, as she realizes that she's crossed a line.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly, standing up. "I didn't mean for that to come out like that. I just mean…he said he knew you. He said you saved his life. He just…speaks pretty highly of you."

"Bless his heart," Violet replies, picking her bag up from the couch as Matthew stares at Kaya with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow. "Look. Kaya."

The girl looks at Violet hopefully.

"I can't say that it surprises me that you're interested in someone like Braden," she tells her. "But let me give you a heads-up that you should carry with you far into your dating life: don't date ass hats like Braden."

She lets Matthew push her gently forward; he's eager to leave. They get a few steps away.

"Violet," Kaya pleads.

Violet looks at her.

"Please."

"Please what?" Violet replies. "Tell him that you're a 'cool chick' and that he should go talk to you at your own party?"

Kaya gives a slight shrug, as though this is exactly what she was hoping for.

"Fuck. No." Matthew says, staring at Kaya. "Trust me. Vi's doing you a favour by refusing."

He pulls Violet away, as Kaya stares after them, looking as though this is the first time she's been denied something that she's asked for.

* * *

When Violet gets home, she finds her mother, JJ, and Penelope in the kitchen sipping wine and laughing.

"Hey, honey," Emily smiles, hugging Violet as she approaches the kitchen. "How was school?"

Violet sighs, dropping her bag on the island. "That girl who tried to get me to start dressing like a Stepford Student invited Matthew and me to a party this weekend."

Emily frowns.

"I said no, of course," Violet adds, going to the fridge.

"A Stepford Student?" JJ repeats, confused.

"This awful girl told Violet that she couldn't wear her boots anymore, and that she shouldn't wear dark colours or something," Penelope tells her.

JJ shakes her head, taking a sip of wine. "I'm so glad I'm not in high school anymore."

"I wish I wasn't," Violet replies dully.

"It might be fun to go to a party, though," Penelope shrugs. "Maybe you'd meet some more kids. Some cool ones."

"No," Violet shakes her head, popping open a coke. "She was just trying to get me to introduce her to Braden Fuckface."

"Violet," Emily breathes, tilting her head at her.

"The kid from Westminster?" JJ asks.

"Yeah," Violet answers, hopping onto a stool. "She likes him and apparently he told her that he and I were 'friends'."

Emily raises an eyebrow and lets out a short, amused laugh. "Yeah right," she says, taking a sip of wine.

"The same kid who came over here and asked you out and you shot down faster than a Whack-a-Mole?" Penelope grins.

"The very same," Violet smiles, nodding.

"Oh yeah," JJ nods. "Emily told us about that. I'm sorry I didn't get to watch that. There's something very satisfying about watching a stuck-up jock get his ass handed to him."

"Violet pretty much shoved it into his arms and pushed him out the door," Emily tells her, looking amused and proud.

"Well, come on," Violet says, one palm raising to the ceiling. "How stupid can you be?"

"Oh, honey," Penelope says, running a hand over Violet's long, dark hair. "You have no idea just how stupid boys can be. You're about to embark on a lifelong journey of finding out."

Emily and JJ nod in agreement.

"In that case, I'll stick to the gays," Violet sighs, hopping off the stool and picking up her bag.

"Dinner's in an hour," Emily calls, as Violet starts up the stairs. "JJ swears we're about to try the best Thai in the state."

"Hmm," Violet nods approvingly. "We'll see, JJ. We'll see."

* * *

A little while later, Violet comes back downstairs to find the three women on the living room couches, laughing hard and apparently a little tipsy.

"Guys," Violet says.

Still laughing quietly, they look up at her.

"It's Wednesday," she reminds them, glancing at the two empty bottles on the island and then back at them.

"And we have the next two days off," JJ replies, raising her glass and taking a drink.

Violet grins, shaking her head as she heads for the fridge.

"No more coke," Emily calls sternly, pointing at Violet.

Violet looks back at her.

"That's a bit rich, coming from the woman who's 650 grapes in."

"You heard me," Emily replies, refilling their glasses. "You need to lay off that stuff."

"But it's so good," Violet groans, throwing her head back and she stands in front of the open fridge.

"So is water," Emily replies.

Violet gives her a dirty look but takes a bottle of water out of the fridge.

The buzzer goes off, so Violet walks over and presses the intercom.

"Hola," she says, in a high-pitched voice.

"Uh, delivery?" a confused voice replies.

"Si, si," Violet replies, pressing the button to unlock the front door.

She goes over to the couches, flopping down beside Penelope as Emily gets up to get her wallet.

"Hey, no," JJ jumps up, reaching for her purse. "I'm paying."

"Put your wallet away, Jaje," Emily replies, opening her wallet.

"Nuh uh," JJ says, grabbing Emily's wallet and tossing it towards the couches.

"Hey!" Emily laughs, watching as it sails and drops beside Violet.

"Dreams _do _come true!" Violet gasps, picking up the open wallet and sliding out one of Emily's credit cards.

Emily leans over the couch, snags the credit card and wallet, and kisses Violet's head as she stands back up.

"Not in that form, baby," she replies, replacing the card and closing the wallet.

JJ thanks the man and closes the door.

"Oh my god, this smells so good I could murder that man," she breathes, setting the bag on the island.

Emily gets out plates as Penelope goes to help them, and Violet clicks on the TV.

As the women unpack the containers, Violet turns on RuPaul's Drag Race.

"Oh my god, is this the show you were talking about?" JJ laughs, licking sauce from her thumb.

"Yes," Emily replies, chuckling.

"Your mom says this is hilarious," JJ tells Violet, sitting on the couch beside her.

"I converted her," Violet replies, as Emily hands her a plate. "She was dubious at first."

"I thought it sounded amazing," JJ says. "I'm so in for watching this."

"Me too," Penelope agrees, sitting beside JJ.

"Where's Matthew tonight?" Emily asks, sitting beside Violet and crossing her legs.

"Homework," Violet replies.

"Where's _your _homework?" Emily raises an eyebrow.

"Nonexistent tonight, Mother," Violet replies.

Emily hates being called 'mother,' so she reaches over stabs her fork into Violet's, causing the noodles to fall off.

"Lo siento, Mamacita," Violet says, jabbing her mother's fork away.

Emily grins, going back to her own plate as her friends and her daughter laugh at the TV screen.


	32. Chapter 32

**August 2003 — Italy**

Emily watches four-year-old Violet colour, as she lies on the floor of their Italian home. She smiles at her, and then checks her watch.

"Violet, come give Mamma a kiss," she says.

Violet looks at her and then smiles, carefully standing up, bringing a handful of crayons with her.

"Be a good girl for Sofia," she reminds the little girl.

Violet looks up at her with her big green eyes and grins. "Io," she replies — a short version of promising to obey.

Sofia, the nanny that the CIA found for them, comes into the living room, smiling pleasantly.

"She's always a very good girl," she says, reaching out to tickle Violet, who giggles and leans further into her mother to escape Sofia's fingers.

Emily lifts her into her arms, kissing her cheek.

"When are you coming back?" Violet asks, her chubby fist still clutching a handful of crayons.

"Soon, baby," Emily promises. "Ti amo."

"Ti amo," Violet smiles in return.

* * *

Emily drives up the long driveway of Giovanni Abate, one of the biggest arms dealers in Europe.

Emily's task has been to befriend and lure Giovanni, resulting in his arrest. They've reached a difficult point in their relationship. Emily had no problem getting Giovanni's attention and then getting him interested. They've been "seeing each other" for several months now. And now he's talking about taking Emily with him on trips; about her moving into his Tuscany mansion. She's held him off by playing it cool, but he's getting impatient. He has no idea that she's a mother, and he definitely doesn't know who she works for.

Emily is so close to bagging him that she can feel it. She never expected to actually like Giovanni. She had a job to do and from the onset she knew that she'd do whatever it took to get the job done.

But somewhere along the way she began to find Gio sweet and funny, and far be it from most women to not find a handsome Italian man sexy.

To Gio, she is Lauren Reynolds, an American writer who came to Tuscany to get away from her busy American lifestyle and to experience the storybook aspect of Italy. And she plays her part flawlessly. She even pretends that she is just learning Italian, rather than being fluent.

It's helped her to come across as oblivious when Gio's associates and buyers have been around. She'll be relaxing by the pool and several men from Emily's files will show up, making deals and transfers as she smiles at them from her lounge chair, appearing completely unaware.

Gio's even introduced her to some of the men. Roberto and Marco, twin brothers from northern Italy, caught the CIA's eye years ago. Whenever Gio introduces her to someone, Emily just smiles a lot and fakes terrible Italian. No one suspects a thing, which is perfect, considering that today is the day it's all going to come crashing down.

She gets out of her car and approaches the huge house. As soon as Gio appears, smoking a cigar and smiling at her seductively, Emily just smiles back.

"Ciao, bella," he greets her.

"Salve," Emily smiles, as he leans down to kiss her.

She hates the smell of the cigars.

"How are you today?" Gio asks, his arm around her as they go inside.

"Tired," Emily replies. "I spoke to my mother, back home. She's been sick."

"Is she alright?" Gio asks, as they reach the kitchen.

"I think so," Emily shrugs. "She _is _almost 65."

"That's young, in today's world," Gio smiles. "She will be fine."

Emily gives a small smile as he pours her a glass of wine.

"Can we go to that cafe for lunch?" Emily asks, leaning on the counter as she smiles at him.

He grins at her. "Perhaps for dinner? I have a meeting this afternoon. Remember?"

"Right," she shakes her head. "I forgot."

Gio comes around the counter and tips her chin up.

Part of her feels bad that his life is going to shatter today. But a bigger part of her is glad. She'll be done with this farce, she'll be done being Lauren, and she can spend more time with Violet.

"Come," Gio smiles, kissing her gently. "Let's go sit outside. It's beautiful out."

He takes Emily's hand and they go outside to sit by the pool.

Two of Gio's housekeepers smile at Emily kindly as they go about their work.

"So," Gio says, stretching his legs out comfortably. "Have you given any thought to what I asked you?"

Emily tilts her head slightly.

"Lauren," Gio purrs. "Come stay with me, here at my home. There's plenty of room. We can take trips, anywhere you want to go."

Emily smiles. "It's never been an issue about there being enough room," she plays coy. "We've only known each other a few months."

"My parents were married after a month of meeting," Gio responds. "And they were the happiest couple I have ever known."

Emily gives him her best sympathetic smile.

Her phone beeps and she reaches for it in her bag. She knows it Sia, programmed into her phone as a fake sister's name, waiting for her cue.

"Is that your other Italian boyfriend? Is he more handsome than me?" Gio says.

Emily chuckles softly, sending Sia the message.

"Who's more handsome than you?" she looks up at Gio through her lashes. "It's my sister. She's planning a trip to Europe next summer."

"Ah," Gio nods slowly. "I should like to meet this sister."

"You will," Emily replies.

They sip their wine until one of the housekeepers appears, followed by Roberto and Marco.

"Ah, here they are," Gio says, standing up. "Amore, I will not be long."

He bends down to kiss Emily's forehead. She touches his hand.

"Ciao," she gives the brothers a small wave.

They smile through their rough exteriors, and then turn to follow Gio inside.

As soon as they do, Emily rolls her eyes as she inhales. The twins she'll be glad to see put away. They're harsh, unfeeling men, and more than once Emily has caught Marco staring at her with hungry eyes.

Emily does her best to sit back in her chair and appear relaxed. Her stomach is feeling anxious; she knows that her team is on their way here, speeding down the Tuscan roads.

Half an hour later, Emily hears Gio and the brothers in the house, finishing their "meeting."

They speak in rapid Italian, planning to meet the next morning to deliver a shipment to a Ukrainian associate. Emily stares at the book she's holding, turning a page every minute or so despite not reading a single word. She memorizes everything the men say.

She can hear the cars approaching.

"Chi e qui?" Roberto asks, as the three of them turn to look out the front windows.

Gio's face hardens as he sees the black cars with tinted windows speed up his driveway. He knows he cannot escape.

He turns to look at Emily, still reading by the pool.

"Lauren," he calls to her.

She turns calmly, smiling when she sees him.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Emily lets her face shift into a frown.

"For what?" she asks.

She can't keep the hint of satisfaction from her face. Only Gio sees the hint of it.

Seconds later, the front door is crashing open and officers flood the house. Emily stands up quickly, appearing shocked and scared.

Graham, another of her coworkers, runs to her from the side of the house.

"Don't move!" he orders, approaching Emily slowly.

To make it as genuine as possible, they have to make it seem like even Emily is being arrested.

Graham clasps the cuffs around her wrists, making sure to walk her past Gio, who is being roughly cuffed and searched in his own kitchen.

"Gio!" Emily cries, feigning fear.

He look at her, his left cheek pressed into his marble countertop. Emily meets his eyes for a second before she is dragged from the house by Graham.

She could never name the look she saw in his eyes.


	33. Chapter 33

Emily and the team arrive back at Quantico after a long day in Maryland.

She checks her phone, but there are no messages from Violet. She should just be getting out of school. As they arrive in the main area, Emily sees a package on her desk.

"Hey, hey," Derek teases, nudging her. "You got someone special you're not telling us about?"

Emily laughs dryly. "Yeah right."

She reaches her desk and picks up the small box, covered in floral paper. Only her name is on the top, on a typed, plain label. No return address.

Curious, she cuts the tape on the sides and carefully lifts the top off.

For just a second, she's confused.

Then her lips part and complete fear takes over.

* * *

Violet's phone rings for the fourth time in a row. Finally out of school and walking towards the bus stop, she clicks to answer the call from her mother.

"Jeez, I would have called back after the first ca-" Violet begins.

"Violet," Emily interrupts. "About tonight. Just meet me at the restaurant."

Violet freezes. She's known what these words mean since she was four or five years old. When she was younger, it meant hide. Now that she's older, she's aware of just what might be lurking for her.

Emily may not have told her about Giovanni Abate, but Violet knows that her mother has worked some pretty case-sensitive situations, and that their using fake names means that they aren't meant to be found when they move around.

"Do you hear me?" Emily asks sternly, even though her chest feels like it might explode. "Just meet me at the restaurant."

"I hear you," Violet replies quietly, her eyes beginning to dart around as she stands in the middle of the sidewalk.

Her chest feels as though ice is growing within it and she reminds herself to stay calm.

"Ciao, signorina Prentiss," she hears a smooth voice.

She turns to see a handsome man, flanked by two others.

"Violet?" Emily says firmly.

But Giovanni Abate is already taking the phone from Violet's hand. He holds it up to his ear as the two other men firmly guide Violet to a waiting vehicle.

"Hello Emily," Gio says into the phone, as they walk down the street.

"If you touch her," Emily begins, biting each word.

"I trust you've received my gift," Gio replies calmly. "Or rather, I meant to return what's yours."

Emily takes a breath. The entire team has stopped their movements around her, frozen first by her tone of voice and now by her words. They look at her questioningly; worried.

"This has nothing to do with her," Emily says with vibrating anger.

"I expect you should have thought of that before you ruined my life," Gio replies in rapid Italian, and he clicks off the phone.

"Emily, what's going on?" Derek demands.

He's been standing beside her ever since she opened the box. He picks up the Italian novel, examining it.

It's the novel Emily had been pretending to read that afternoon, poolside at Gio's mansion. To Derek, it's just a novel filled with a language he can't read.

"Who sent this?"

"Giovanni Abate," Emily replies, her face smoothing into marble.

"Worldwide arms dealer Giovanni Abate?" Reid frowns.

Emily looks up, pushing her chin out slightly; anger and determination evident in her unmoving features.

"He has Violet."


	34. Chapter 34

Violet reminds herself to keep a cool exterior, despite the fact that her heart is racing and her palms are sweating. She sits in the SUV with its tinted windows, flanked on either side by a large Italian man. The men are both easily at least 6'3". One of them has cold ice-blue eyes, and the other a soft brown. Blue Eyes is harsh and fast in his movements; Brown Eyes at least attempted to make sure that she didn't fall on her face when she was getting into the SUV.

A fourth man is driving. He's smaller, with sunglasses and a tattoo of a rosary on his left wrist. Violet makes herself stay calm by memorizing all of these characteristics about the men who just abducted her from a sidewalk in the middle of the day.

No one even looked at them. Then again, Violet didn't make a sound either. She knows it wouldn't have mattered, and she knows that this man is capable of finding and hurting her mother.

They start to speak in rapid Italian.

"Where's her mother?" the driver asks.

"She'll be along," the man who spoke to her mother replies. "I told you. The girl is our ticket to finding Lauren."

"Emily," Blue Eyes says stonily.

"Whoever she is," the man replies coldly.

He turns to look at Violet, who regards him with a straight face.

"Violet, hm?" he says. "Your mother always did like those."

Violet just exhales, looking away from him.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No," Violet replies, moving her eyes to meet his.

His lips curve into a handsome smile.

"But you know who Lauren Reynolds is," he says. "Don't you."

It's not a question, and Violet doesn't respond.

* * *

Emily and the team are in the meeting room. No one sits down; everyone is alert and listening as Emily explains her placement and job in Italy.

Garcia moves quickly, grabbing information in her own way.

She gets on speaker from her lair.

"He escaped three days ago," she tells the group. "Interpol and the CIA have a hit out on him."

"Did anybody call you?" Hotch asks.

"No," Emily replies, getting out her phone.

She finds Sia's number and calls her.

It rings endlessly and goes to voicemail. Emily clenches her jaw. Sia always answers.

Always.

She finds another number — Graham's — and calls.

"Emily," he answers. "Are you all right?"

"Was anyone planning on telling me that Giovanni Abate escaped his maximum-security facility?" she asks sternly.

"I thought…" Graham begins. "Your number was the last one called from Sia's phone."

"What?" Emily frowns.

"She was found this morning," Graham replies quietly. "In her apartment."

Emily blinks, reminding herself to stay calm so she can think properly.

"He killed her," she says.

"Yes," Graham answers. "He has three men of his with him."

"The twins?"

"No. They're still in prison. Not saying anything."

"They won't," she replies.

"We're realizing that," Graham answers. "I assumed Sia had told you."

"No," Emily says. "The call never went through. I haven't talked to her in about a week."

Graham exhales.

"Graham," Emily says, the words already like vinegar on her tongue. "He has Violet."

* * *

Across the globe, in a maximum-security Italian prison, Roberto and Marco Genesio are dragged from their cells and placed into separate interrogation rooms. Graham and a member of his team confer about their tactics.

* * *

In the SUV, speeding across town, Gio continues to consult with the three other men, not stopping to consider that Violet might understand them.

"What's to say she doesn't bring the whole team with her," the driver asks. "Then we're fucked."

"She won't," Gio replies. "I have her daughter. She'll do whatever I tell her to do."

He turns to look at Violet, who just looks at him and then exhales, as though bored. But her right foot is bouncing in minuscule movements and her heart is still racing. She knows her mother will find her, but she knows that this guy wants to kill her. She's going to have to figure out a way to make sure that doesn't happen.

* * *

"The Genesio twins are still in prison," Emily tells the team. "He has a new team with him."

"Any idea who they are?" Derek asks.

"I'm on it," Garcia replies over speakerphone.

Emily begins to fidget with her fingers, pulling at her cuticles.

JJ reaches over and covers one of Emily's hands with hers. She waits for Emily to look at her.

"We'll get her back," she tells Emily firmly.

Emily nods and then clears her throat, looking away from JJ as tears threaten to appear. She's doing her best to keep them at bay, but she's not sure how long she can manage.

* * *

"I can barely remember where this fucking place is. No way they're going to find it," Gio tells the driver, who Violet now knows is named Franco.

Blue Eyes is referred to as Gustavo, and Brown Eyes is called Teo.

The men have spoken only in Italian, believing that Violet is clueless.

They pull up to a warehouse, old and abandoned. It's in the industrial area, surrounded by other large warehouses. Violet knows that Gio chose well. It will be beyond difficult to find them out here.

Franco pulls into a large hangar and then gets out to close the entryway.

Gustavo moves to open the car door. Teo shoves at Violet to move. She can't stop herself from turning to give him a dirty look before she moves towards the door.

Gustavo fits one of his enormous hands around her upper arm, helping her from the vehicle.

"Put her in the first room," Gio orders.

Gustavo pulls her away. She still has her bag slung over her shoulder, but her schoolbag was left in the SUV. Violet almost grins, remembering that her computer is in there. Maybe Penelope can track it.

Gustavo leads her to a room. It's bare except for a chair, and a worrisome hook that is stuck in the floor.

Violet looks up and sees chains hanging from the roof. She knows what the hook is for now.

Gustavo gestures towards the chair. Violet looks at him, widening her eyes as though this is good.

"For me?" she says, palm pressed to her breastbone.

Gustavo gives a breathy chuckle and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Violet finally breathes, exhaling deeply and taking another deep breath to try and calm down. She shakes her sweating hands and begins to walk the perimeter of the room.

"Fuck," she breathes, looking around.

* * *

The four men sit around a table in the main area of the warehouse hangar. Beer bottles and cards litter the table. They've had some time to kill over the last 24 hours, since arriving in America.

"Now what?" Franco asks, lighting a cigarette.

Gio lets his brow rise and fall as he lights a cigar.

"Now we wait," he replies. "Teo. Bring me the girl's schoolbag."

Teo obeys, bringing back the heavy bag.

"My god," Gio mutters, taking it from Teo. "What are kids carrying around these days?"

He begins to empty out Violet's bag. Useless items — textbooks and several notebooks — and then a laptop.

"Bingo," he grins at his cohorts.

He opens the computer. The desktop image is one of Emily and Violet, smiling happily into the camera.

Gio scoffs.

"I never even knew she had a child," he says, opening up several applications on the computer.

"You only knew what she wanted you to know," Franco replies, inhaling deeply on his cigarette.

Gio makes a gesture of agreement as he disables the WiFi and tracking from Violet's computer.

"Why?" Gustavo shrugs. "There's no internet out here."

"They've got a tech on their team," Gio replies, opening the Photos folder on the laptop. "She'd be able to trace it."

His face hardens as he looks at the photos of mother and daughter. He scrolls further and finds a photo folder marked Italy 2002-2003.

The first picture is of the Emily he knew: Lauren Reynolds. The little girl she holds in her arms is obviously the source of the mother's joy.

Gio lets out a breathy scoff and then slams the computer closed.


	35. Chapter 35

"I've got them," Penelope says, hurrying into the room.

She clicks the remote in her hand and images appear on the large screen. The team stares, intent.

"Gustavo Altimari, Teo Belloni, and Franco di Pietro," she says.

"Do you know them?" Hotch asks Emily.

She stares at the images.

"Gustavo," Emily nods once. "I saw him once or twice at Gio's. The other two I've never seen before."

"That's not surprising," Penelope replies, clicking again. "Teo Belloni and Franco di Pietro were both born in southern Italy. They were both arrested several times in their younger years, for stuff like petty theft and possession of marijuana. Teo, however, was arrested several times for domestic abuse. And his wife died. The coroner's report says it was a heart attack, but…seems a little weird, if you ask me. Oh, and neither men have been linked to Giovanni Abate at all."

"So where'd he find them?" Gideon wonders aloud.

* * *

In the room, Violet exhales again, trying to get the tight feeling out of her chest. She walks around the room, the lower half of her face buried in her scarf as she inhales the familiar, comforting scent of home.

She wanders over to the hook in the ground and the chains above it. She examines it curiously. She's never seen one in real life before. She notes where the chains hook into the ground link, making it possible for the torturer to raise and drop their victim.

"Psychos," Violet mutters, standing up again.

She knows that her mother always taught her that controlling your fear is the first step to being able to think out a situation properly. She's doing her best, but she still has no ideas.

She has to pee but she doesn't want one of those creeps to watch her or something.

Regardless, she goes and bangs on the door.

"Hey!" she yells. "I have to pee! Really badly!"

She waits several moments and then hears the sound of the door being unlocked from the outside.

Gustavo gives her a stern look.

"Are you the resident babysitter?" she asks him.

He just gives her a stern but amused look again, like before, and reaches out to link his fingers around his upper arm.

He leads her down the hallway. At the end is a tiny bathroom, dirty and gross.

Violet makes a face and looks at Gustavo.

He just shrugs and then says, "Use it, or hold it," in his perfect Italian.

Violet always smiles sardonically, but remembers that she can't give away that she speaks Italian.

She waits for him to gesture towards the bathroom again.

Reluctantly, Violet goes inside. She stares at him as she closes the door.

Quickly, she looks around the small room. There's an air vent in the ceiling. She wonders if she'd be able to get in it.

She climbs onto the toilet and starts to fiddle with the metal cover. The screws aren't solidly in place, but they're tight enough to make it impossible for her fingers to loosen.

"Hurry up," Gustavo knocks, speaking in Italian.

Violet fights against the screws again. She breathes through her teeth with frustration.

"Hey," Gustavo knocks again.

Violet hops down and flushes the toilet.

She opens the door. Gustavo just stands there, waiting for her to walk out. When she does, he again takes her arm.

"Is patience a virtue in Italy, or not so much?" she asks.

"Not so much," Gustavo replies dryly.

Violet nods slowly as they reach the room again and he gently pushes her inside.

He closes the door and she leans her back against it, exhaling and sinking down to the floor as he locks it again.

* * *

"They had to have rented some place," Reid suggests. "Wherever they're keeping Violet. It would be pretty suspicious to have a bunch of Italian guys just show up and take over a building. They must have arranged it all."

"Yeah, Reid's right," Derek adds. "Abate's obviously been planning this. He found out about you and who you really were, and started planning. That means he's got everything mapped out. Where he's going to stay, who's helping him. He's meticulous, not stupid."

"Garcia, cross-reference all four last name's with the area," Hotch orders. "Buildings, cars, houses. Everything."

"I'm on it," Garcia replies, her fingers beginning to fly.

"He wouldn't use any of their names," Emily says, shaking her head as she paces near the board. "He's too smart for that."

"Did he have people here that worked for him? Or family living in the States?" Hotch asks.

"No," Emily replies. "His whole family was staunchly local. They refused to move, even to different parts of the country."

"Did he have siblings?"

"A sister," Emily shrugs. "She died when Gio was 11."

"What was her name?" Derek asks.

"Um," Emily scans her memory. "Lucia."

"Garcia," Hotch begins.

"I'm already on it, sir," Penelope replies. "Adding that name to my search."

* * *

Violet lets her head rest against the door. As her heart slowly stops pounding in her ears, she realizes that she can almost hear what Gio and the others are saying.

She turns onto her stomach and presses her cheek against the cold cement floor, so her ear is near the open space at the bottom of the door.

She hasn't been around Italians for awhile, but she immediately understood it after hearing them speak. As though she hadn't left Italy at all.

"You're going to have to move the girl," Gustavo says between puffs on his smoke.

"What for?" Gio replies.

"You want that room for Lauren," Gustavo shrugs. "The chains."

Gio laughs lightly.

"Come on, Gustavo," he says, as Franco deals each of them cards. "You didn't think I was going to let the daughter miss the show."

* * *

"Nothing, sir," Garcia announces, frustration evident in her voice. "Nothing for any of their names, first or last. And nothing on Lucia Abate."

"Who else would he use?" Hotch asks Emily.

She breathes carefully, reminding herself to think, but not of the fact that the victim they're searching for is her own child.

"Anyone that you met while living in Italy," Derek adds.

Emily exhales, throwing up one of her hands. "Um," she mumbles, her brain moving faster and faster. "His housekeepers. He had two full-time that worked for him. Francesca Belmonte and Carmine…Carmine Corti."

"Garcia?" Hotch says.

"On it, sir," she replies, working as fast as she possibly can.

* * *

It's been six hours. Violet's gone from pacing, and then listening to Gio and his cohorts, to sitting in the far corner of the room, resting against the wall. She's drained but wired, still feeling shaky and unsteady.

She hears the door being unlocked. Her stomach churns slightly.

Gio's face appears and he takes a few steps into the room.

"Your phone," he says, holding it up. "What's the passcode?"

Violet just stares at him.

"It will make it easier, on everyone, if you just tell me," he says calmly.

Still, she is silent.

He walks slowly, taking his time as he approaches her.

Then he's standing right in front of her, and she's burrowed in the corner of the room.

He bends down slightly, taking a deep breath.

"I don't want to hurt you, Violet," he says, and for some reason, Violet thinks that he's telling the truth. And that's what he uses his beefy men for.

He looks at her, softening his face to appear kind.

Violet swallows, looking away from him.

His hand comes towards her and he places his fingers beneath her chin, turning her to face him.

"The passcode," he repeats.

Violet moves her head, out of his grasp, and turns away.

"That," Gio says quietly, standing up, "is a shame."

He takes a few steps away from her.

"Teo!" he shouts.

He turns to look at Violet, still sitting on the floor.

"It's time to help Violet…open up," he says.

* * *

The teams sits around the table, surrounded by information on the four men. The familiar documents that Emily had hidden in her closet were unearthed by the talented Garcia online, and printed to join the others.

The team re-reads the transcript between Gio and the CIA upon his capture; they read his history and that of his parents; and they read everything they can find on the three other men.

Emily's composure is vibrating. The thought of Violet being locked up somewhere by these men, having who knows what done to her, is getting harder and harder to not think about. She knows that Gio may not be sadistic, but Teo has a history of violence, and all three of the men obviously aren't concerned with hurting people.

* * *

Teo enters the room, his 6'3" frame appearing even larger than normal.

Gio simply nods his head towards Violet. Teo nods once and walks over to Violet. Her heart begins to speed up again, and then Teo is reaching down for her. He grabs her upper arms and lifts her to her feet as though she weighed nothing at all.

He starts to pull her towards the middle of the room, where the chains are. Violet balks, resisting him, but she's helpless against him. He wrenches her wrists forward and has them locked in before she realizes it. She starts to back away, but he grabs the linked cuffs and yanks her forward. The metal hurts her wrists but she tries again to get away from him. He grabs one of her ankles, trying to snap a cuff around it, but she jerks her leg out and clips him across the face.

Angrily, he looks at her.

"Don't move!" he shouts at her in Italian.

She struggles again. Suddenly, she feels immense pressure engulf the left side of her face as the back of Teo's huge hand hits her.

She falls, the force behind his hit strong, and falls to the ground. It takes her a minute to come out of the trance of being stunned, and when she does, she looks down and sees that her ankles are cuffed too.

"Ragazza stupida," he mutters, standing up.

Violet spits blood from her mouth, staring at him hard.


	36. Chapter 36

"Gio," Teo calls out.

Gio looks up from where he sits.

"It's been 12 hours," Teo reminds him.

Gio looks at his watch and then folds the newspaper and picks up the disposable cell phone he's been using.

He walks over to the door and unlocks it.

Inside, Violet is shackled in the chains attached to the ceiling and the floor. He hasn't pulled the chains to force her to dangle from her wrists yet, but Teo hit her hard enough to cause the left side of her face to swell up, bulbous and purple.

He walks up to her. Violet quickly moves from lying down to a sitting position.

"Listen," he says in heavily accented English. "You want to talk to your mother?"

Weary, Violet looks up at him.

"Obviously," she replies stonily.

Gio scoffs, amused, and dials.

* * *

Emily's phone starts to ring on the table. The entire team snaps to attention.

"It's him," Hotch says, knowing. "Garcia?"

"I'm ready," she replies, preparing to trace the call.

Emily's hands shake slightly as she reaches out to answer the call, putting it on speaker phone.

"Hello Lauren," Gio's smooth voice slides into her ear. "How are you?"

"Let me talk to my daughter," Emily demands, keeping her voice steady.

"Actually, that's why I've called," Gio replies conversationally.

A moment passes.

"Mom," comes Violet's voice.

Emily's eyes close, she feels tears fill her eyes but she refuses to let them fall.

"Baby, are you okay?" Emily asks.

"Yes," Violet replies. "I'm okay."

"Did they touch you?" Emily asks sternly.

Violet, on the other end, glances at Gio. She licks her lips nervously.

"I'm in a warehouse, kind of like a hangar," she replies in rapid Greek.

Gio yanks the phone from her ear.

"That's enough," he says into the phone in his native tongue. "Emily."

He uses her real name, but speaks only in Italian.

"Take me off speaker phone," Gio says.

Emily presses mute.

"He wants me to take him off speaker phone," she says.

Hotch looks like he's about to disagree, but without another word Emily reaches out and presses the button to switch it.

She presses her phone to her ear.

"Don't you dare touch her," she tells Gio, fury in her eyes.

"Oh, Emily," Gio purrs. "This was never about your daughter. This is about you."

"Then let her go," Emily orders.

"How about a swap?" Gio offers, still only speaking in Italian. "You…for her."

Emily glances at her team.

"You can have me, but do not lay a finger on my daughter," she says sternly in perfect Italian.

"Ah, there it is," Gio laughs lightly. "Once I figured out who you were, _what _you were…I longed to hear that voice speak perfect Italian. You faked it very well, pretending you were just learning."

"Yeah, well I faked a lot of things," Emily replies easily, still in Italian.

Gio laughs again, but it's slightly bitter.

"The creek near Ross Trail," Gio tells her. "One hour."

He hangs up before Emily can say another word.

"What was that?" Derek demands, staring at Emily.

Emily stares at the phone in her hands.

"What language was that?" Derek asks.

"Greek," Emily replies, pride mixing with the fear in her chest, exacerbating the storm in it. "She's in a warehouse."

"That kid is a freaking genius," JJ says, as she and Reid get out a new map of the city.

"What did he say?" Hotch asks, his brow furrowed.

"He won't hurt her," Emily says, knowing what she has to do. "He wouldn't say anything else, just ridiculous memories about us, in Italy."

"What was the purpose of his call?" Hotch asks, feeling the edges of Emily's lie.

"To prove that Violet's unharmed," Emily replies. "In the end, it's me he wants. Not her."

"Most warehouses are located in the industrial district," Spencer says, circling an area on a map.

Emily swallows, planning her exit from the building.

"She said it was like a hangar," she tells them.

She rubs her forehead and starts for the door.

"Hey," Derek touches her arm, looking at her carefully.

"Bathroom," Emily lies, but the emotion on her face can't be hidden.

Derek nods, releasing her, and she walks out.

* * *

"That was clever," Gio says, looking down at Violet as he stands up. "What was that?"

Violet just stares back.

"Croatian? Ukrainian?" Gio guesses. "I was never one for languages. English and French was as far as I travelled outside of my comfort zone."

Violet exhales, feigning boredom.

"Neat," she replies, again looking up at him.

"I should have known," Gio replies thoughtfully. "Once I learned who your mother really was, what she was, what she knew…I should have known she'd speak a train of languages. And I'm betting…that you do, too."

Violet just stares at him.

"Francais?" he tilts his head.

"Oui," Violet replies.

"Espanol?" he goes again.

"Si," Violet replies, raising her brow.

"Italiano?" he says, kneeling down to her eye level.

Violet feigns a look of embarrassment, looking away.

"Tua madre non ti ha insegnato?" he asks.

_Your mother never taught you?_

Violet plays it clueless, chewing her lip.

"I know you said 'mother'," she tells him.

He smirks.

"Any person with average intelligence can tell what 'madre' or 'padre' means," he replies, heading for the door.

He looks back at her before slamming the door shut again.

* * *

"He's using a disposable," Garcia tells the team over speaker. "I couldn't get the exact location, but it did bounce off of three different cell towers in the lower east side of the city."

"That's the industrial area," Derek says, looking annoyed that there's no new information.

"We can work with this," Hotch assures him. "There can only be so many places. Garcia, check for warehouses rented within the last six months. We need to narrow this search. Where's Emily?"

"She went to the bathroom," Derek replies, pacing. He freezes, and stops to stare at Hotch.

Realization blankets them. Emily's been gone for 15 minutes.

"She went on her own," Derek mutters, already reaching for his jacket.

* * *

Emily drives fast towards the outskirts of the city. Ross Trail isn't that far, and she knows where it is. They found a body out here a month ago, and she'd been forced to get a lay of the land.

It's 4:00 in the morning. She hasn't slept in 24 hours but her entire body is wired, on high alert and refusing to slow down.

She gets to the turn off to head towards Ross Trail.

She reminds herself that she just heard Violet's voice; that her daughter wasn't crying; that she didn't sound hurt. But Violet is her mother's daughter. She can maintain her composure better than almost anyone Emily's ever seen. It's Emily who breaks that composure, and it's the same for her.

Seeing Emily is what will let Violet cry with relief, obliterating the fear that's been building in her chest for 12 hours.

And Violet is what will release the pain in Emily's.

Even if it means trading herself for Violet.


	37. Chapter 37

Gio waits in the vehicle. Franco, at the wheel, turns the lights off.

They wait.

Moments later, a charcoal SUV appears from the twisted road in the dark expanse of trees.

Gio straightens and then gets out of the vehicle. He smoothes the lapels of his jacket as Emily parks.

He wishes his heart didn't stutter as soon as she stepped out of the car. But the truth is, he never really stopped loving Lauren Reynolds.

"Emily," he smiles placidly, again using her real name.

"Giovanni." Emily replies stonily. She stops a few feet from her vehicle. "Where is she?"

A smile appears on Gio's face.

Suddenly, Emily knows, but she realizes it too late.

Teo and Gustavo are already grabbing her arms, pinning them behind her back, and then everything goes black.

* * *

"Put her in the second room," Gio orders the men.

"But-" Gustavo starts.

"You heard me," Gio snaps.

Emily is starting to wake up. The blow to her head makes her dizzy. She wants to move, but can't. She can't even see straight. As soon as consciousness returns, she tries to move her body, but it responds too slowly. Besides, she's wedged between two Italian beefcakes.

Gustavo unlocks the second room and grabs Emily's arm. Stumbling, Emily tries to get her footing.

"Sit," Gustvo commands.

"I want to see my daughter," Emily says, things slowly becoming less blurry.

Gustavo slams the door.

Still dizzy, Emily carefully looks around. The room is dimly lit, with only table and chair, and she can barely make out a mattress in the corner.

She thinks she sees a shape and her heart buzzes.

"Violet," she breathes, moving towards the shape as quickly as her body will allow her.

She gets to the mattress and falls onto it, reaching for the girl's arms.

The face comes into focus and Emily's hands open, releasing the person.

It's not Violet. But it's a familiar face nonetheless.

Sitting on the mattress, her eyes red and her face swollen from crying and no doubt several beatings, is Sofia.

Violet's nanny from Italy, all those years ago.

* * *

"Sir, I think I found something," Garcia announces.

"What is it?" Hotch asks, still scouring everything for a hint.

"A warehouse was rented out a month ago," Garcia replies. "It didn't show up on my radar before because none of the men's names matched. So I did some digging and found a name match from Emily's time in Italy. Obviously, Emily would have needed someone to take care of Violet while she was working."

"A nanny," Hotch realizes.

"Bingo," Garcia replies quickly. "A woman named Sofia Grimaldi was hired to work for Lauren Reynolds. A woman named Sofia _Guerro_ rented a building in the industrial district a month ago. I cross referenced that name with Grimaldi's, and there's no match. But sir, I think it's worth checking out because-"

"Excellent work, Garcia," Hotch interrupts her, as the team starts moving.

"She's working for Abate?" Derek frowns, pulling on his jacket.

"I don't think so," Garcia replies. "She was reported missing over a month ago. And the answer to your next question is being forwarded to your phones. It's the address of the building being rented by Sofia."

* * *

"Sofia," Emily breathes, stunned by the face in front of her. "What…"

She shakes her head slowly.

"Please, Lauren," Sofia begs in Italian. "They grabbed me on my way home from work one night. They made me tell them."

"But…you never knew my real name," Emily replies, frowning.

"I saw it," Sofia replies, ashamed. "When I was cleaning one day. The passport. You left it out."

Emily frowns, wondering how she'd be so careless.

"It was when Violet cut open her head at the park," Sofia explains, her eyes streaming. "We left for the hospital so quickly."

Emily's mind replays the day's events.

"How…did you know her name was Violet?" she asks.

Sofia looks down and shrugs. "I wasn't sure, not at first. I thought it was just a nickname you called her sometimes, because you loved the flowers so much. But when Giovanni and those men…"

She starts to cry, shaking her head and covering her mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Lauren," she cries.

Emily puts all of this information together.

"Is Violet here?" she demands.

Sofia nods.

"I haven't seen her," she tells Emily. "I've only heard her. She's the same."

She almost smiles wistfully at Emily.

"So strong. She does not cry."

Emily nods, biting her lip. She stands up, looking around the room.

She hears the locks being flipped and walks towards the door.

It swings open to reveal Gio and the two large men.

"Come, Emily," Gio smiles. "Now that you've gotten reacquainted with your old friend Sofia, I have something else to show you."

Teo grabs Emily roughly and drags her. He cuffs her hands and Emily feels a stab of fear. Why would they cuff her now?

They walk down the hallway to the first door.

Gio unlocks it and then pauses to turn and look at Emily.

In silence, he just looks into her eyes. She stares back, unwavering, with hatred.

Gio gives a breathy, almost-silent laugh and then swings open the door.

Emily's eyes widen and her lips part as she sees Violet, chained up and dangling.

She immediately moves forward to rush to her, but the men hold her back. Instead they lead her to the chair in the room.

Emily's follows Violet's earlier plan and speaks to her only in Greek.

"Baby. Are you okay?" she asks, her eyes full.

Violet's own eyes fill as she sees her mother. "Yes," she replies. "Where are the others?"

"I couldn't," Emily tells her. "I'm what he wants."

"What?" Violet demands, fear taking over. "No! Mom, you can't!"

"Enough!" Gio thunders in Italian.

Teo and Gustavo tie Emily to the chair, but Gio wanders over to Violet.

"You're something else, you know that?" he says in English.

Violet stares at him angrily. He reaches out to tuck a lock of Violet's hair behind her ear. She jerks her head away from his touch.

"Teo," Gio says, monotone.

Teo walks over and once again, Violet's feels the back of his hand smash across the left side of her face.

"No!" Emily screams, fighting against the ropes holding her to the chair. "Stop! Stop!"

Gio holds up a hand to Teo, who backs away from Violet.

Emily watches Violet, unable to keep the tears in her eyes, as her daughter spits blood.

But she doesn't cry.

"I'm okay," she tells her mother in Greek, her voice strained.

Emily wishes she could swipe at the tears that just stained her cheeks, but her hands are behind her back. She wipes them against each shoulder instead, not wanting to let Gio see her tears.

"You ruined my life, _Emily_," Gio says, walking slowly in front of Emily.

"Exactly," Emily snaps. "_I _ruined your life. She had nothing to do with it."

"Ah, but see," Gio says, holding up a finger. "She…_is _your life."

He stops to look Emily in the eye.

"It seems only fair…. An eye for an eye," he says smoothly in Italian.


	38. Chapter 38

Derek drives as fast as he can. Hotch is in the passenger seat and JJ is in the back.

Gideon and Spencer follow close behind in another SUV.

The drive out to the industrial area takes about half an hour. But it's 7:00 AM. People are on their way to work, so the roads are busier than Derek would like.

He clenches his jaw, pressing the pedal closing to the floor.

* * *

"Take me," Emily says through clenched teeth. "You said it yourself. I'm the one you want."

Gio shrugs as he starts to pace in front of Emily.

"Actually, I just wanted to make sure that you were here. Watching the consequences of your actions."

Emily grits her teeth and stares him down.

He comes forward, bending so he's eye level with her. He gently reaches out to smooth Emily's dark hair, tucking it behind her ear. Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head backwards. Emily bites into the pain, refusing to make a sound.

"You seemed to enjoy shredding my life apart," Gio tells her, his lips near her ear. "You did it slowly. Deliberately. Everything planned."

He releases Emily's hair. She does her best to control her breathing.

"I figured that I should return the favour," Gio goes on.

He takes a blade from inside his jacket. Slowly, he drags the blade down Emily's cheek, tracing the tear stain.

"I've had a lot of time to think about how I'd return what was owed," he murmurs, staring into her eyes.

His eyes take in her porcelain skin as he drags the knife down her neck, then her chest. The blade drags lightly, barely touching her, but it's enough to make Emily almost shudder.

He stands up and starts to walk over to Violet as she hangs, exhausted and in pain.

"She's a child, Gio," Emily spits out in Italian. "She's a little girl."

"Is she?" Gio replies doubtfully. "She's old enough to have become a little version of you. She's stubborn. Somewhat naive, but I'm sure you were for a short time. She's sneaky. Precocious."

He stands in front of Violet and reaches out the knife to lift hair from her face. She breathes with effort; her eyes come up to stare at him through her lashes.

"No. I wouldn't say she's a little girl at all," Gio muses.

He moves the knife down to Violet's torso. He pulls at her shirt and a thin strip of pale skin shows.

"Don't," Emily snaps, fighting the ropes again. "I'll do anything. Leave her."

Gio grins sadistically at Emily and her stomach churns; her mouth tastes like pennies and her heart is racing as Gio slides the blade across Violet's skin and then pushes into it with the blade.

Emily can hear the sharp intake of breath as Violet feels her skin part.

She fights again, using all of her strength against the ropes.

"Stop!" she screams. "Stop!"

Gio cuts a two-inch wound into Violet's abdomen. It's not deep, but it's enough to make her bleed.

Gio said he wanted this to go slowly.

* * *

"It's right up here," Hotch says shortly. "Take a left."

Derek obeys, antsy to get out of the vehicle and into the building where Emily and Violet are.

They know that stealth is important here. It's why they turned off their lights down the road, and why the caravan of officers following the BAU silently get out of their vehicles and wait for Hotch's orders.

"There are four of them. That means one of them is probably keeping watch at all times," Hotch says quietly, as he and Derek move carefully towards the warehouse.

They communicate silently with the others before moving in.

* * *

"I'm okay," Violet breathes in Greek. "I'm okay."

She's repeating for her mother, but also for herself. She reminds herself to be strong.

Emily strains against the ropes again, swearing at Gio through a clenched jaw.

Teo walks over and hits her hard across the face.

The force of it nearly knocks Emily out, but she blinks, hiding her face behind a curtain of her hair; getting her composure back.

Gio, still standing by Violet, begins to drag the blade along her once more. Up one arm, across her shoulders, down the other arm.

"And to think," he murmurs. "I mourned for Lauren Reynolds, when news of her death reached me in prison. I grieved."

He looks over at Emily, the moment of nostalgia passing quickly to make room for the fury on his face.

"And for what?" he sneers, curling his lip at her in disgust.

Emily is still reeling from the hit, but all she can think about is Violet. She prays that the team finds them.

* * *

They approach the doorway, hidden behind old train cars and other junk.

Derek sees Franco. He gestures to Hotch, who gestures to the others, right behind them.

A moment later, Derek steps out.

"FBI. Don't move," he orders.

Franco stops, clearly surprised by them. He reaches up to take the cigarette from his mouth.

"What's the problem?" he asks in his thick accent.

"You are," Derek replies, moving forward.

Franco reaches for his pocket.

"One more move and I'll shoot you," Derek threatens.

Franco freezes again, considering his options.

Much to the BAU's surprise, he raises his hands.

"I did nothing," he sneers.

Hotch reaches him and cuffs him, shoving him towards a nearby police officer.

"Get him outta here," he mutters.

Carefully, the team enters the warehouse. The large hangar-like area has only a table and chairs, a few couches in the corner, and an old TV propped on a crate.

There's no one else visible.

"Stop!" they hear Emily's scream.

They immediately move quickly, following the sound of her voice.

* * *

"You're what's pathetic," Emily spits out. "Taking your frustrations out on a child. What kind of man does that?"

Gio stares at her, clearly bothered as he grits his teeth.

"Don't you dare talk to me about-"

Suddenly, a voice sounds from the doorway.

"Giovanni Abate. Don't move."

Emily's head snaps to the left to see her team. She could cry, she's so happy to see them, but she can't rest until Violet is out of those chains.

Immediately, Gio steps back towards Violet. He pulls her hair, forcing her head back, and holds the blade against her throat.

"You don't wanna do that, man," Derek says, moving slowly towards him.

Teo and Gustavo, standing adjacent to the doorway, point their guns at the BAU, but they are outnumbered severely.

"What do you know about what I want?" Gio spits out as JJ frees Emily from her ropes.

"Are you okay?" she whispers, looking carefully at Emily.

"Give me your gun," Emily replies in a clipped whisper.

JJ doesn't hesitate. She hands Emily her gun and reaches for her backup, snug against her calf in its holster.

Emily moves up beside Derek, pointing the gun at Gio.

"Touch her again and I won't hesitate to put a bullet right between your eyes," she tells him, fury pulsing through her veins.

Gio gives her an impressed look.

"My, my," he says, shaking his head. "I have to say, Lauren. You and a gun…it's sexy."

Gio shifts his weight, the arm with the knife starting to move. Emily takes the out. She can easily claim that the shift, his movement, was grounds for firing her weapon.

Blood spurts from his knee and he falls to the floor, screaming in agony.

Derek rushes over to subdue him completely as Emily tucks the gun into her holster and hurries to Violet.

She flips the clasp and frees Violet's hands as JJ helps keep Violet from crashing to the floor.

Violet's heart races. Adrenaline is coursing through her like fire and she feels like she's never going to stop vibrating.

As soon as her hands are free, Emily is enveloping Violet in her arms.

Seeing her mother clearly now, right in front of her, Violet's exterior crumbles. She doesn't have to be strong anymore, and she can finally break.

"Mommy," she breathes, and for the first time since she was taken, tears begin to fall.

Emily cradles her against her, holding her tightly as tears fall from her own eyes. JJ stands beside them, blinking back tears of her own.

"There's someone else," Violet suddenly says, her voice unsteady. "In the next room. They were talking about her. They took her from Verona."

Gio, being dragged to his feet, turns to stare at Violet.

She looks up, seeing his shock.

She almost gives him a half-smile and breathy sort of laugh.

"Oh, yeah," she says in perfect Italian. "My mother _did _teach me."

With Derek pinning his arms back, reaching for his cuffs with the other hand, Gio suddenly jerks away, forcing himself to fall to the ground. In a swift movement he reaches for the ankle on his unharmed leg. As if in slow motion, Emily sees him pull out a gun. She reaches back and pulls JJ's gun out out of her holster. With one hand she covers Violet's ear, pressing her head into her chest to protect her. With the other unwavering hand, she points her gun directly at Gio and pulls the trigger.


	39. Chapter 39

The team watches as a small black hole appears in the middle of Gio's forehead. Blood leaks from it as Gio is thrown backwards by the force of the bullet, and he's dead before he hits the ground.

Emily's doesn't listen to anything else. She sinks lower onto her knees, wrapping Violet tightly against her.

The bustle around them isn't even heard or seen. They can only breathe and cling.

* * *

Paramedics rush in after Gustavo and Teo are arrested and taken away.

They poke and prod Violet, shining a flashlight in her eyes and asking her questions too quickly for her to answer. Everything keeps feeling like it's going in slow motion and then at lightning speed.

Emily helps the paramedic lie Violet on the gurney as the other paramedic begins an IV and they start rattling information between each other.

As they wheel her out, Emily and JJ follow close behind.

"She's going to be okay," Emily states, daring the paramedics to disagree.

"She's in the best hands," one of them replies gently.

They load Violet into the back of one of the waiting ambulances.

Emily climbs in after them as Violet comes in and out of consciousness.

"Mom," she barely manages.

"I'm right here, baby," Emily promises, taking Violet's hand in both of hers.

"Don't leave," Violet whispers, tears falling from the outer corners of her eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere," Emily replies fiercely, Violet's face blurring before her.

She blinks rapidly, banishing the tears.

She looks up right before the paramedic closes the door and sees JJ, standing there with tears in her eyes and unable to speak.

She meets Emily's eyes and opens her mouth, but the ambulance doors slam shut.

* * *

Dr. Saunders appears as Violet is being brought into the ER.

"Emily," she says, hurrying over. "What happened?"

Emily opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She just looks down at Violet, clutching her hand.

Dr. Saunders eyes her carefully and then gestures to one of the nurses.

"Ms Prentiss," the nurse says gently, touching Emily's arm. "I need you to come sit down."

"No," Emily replies, her pupils huge and her pulse racing. "I'm staying with my daughter."

"Dr. Saunders is going to take the best care of her. You can't go past the blue line. Come sit down."

They wheel Violet away and Emily stares, seeing the hand she was just holding as it hangs near the edge of the gurney.

Her eyes are perpetually full.

The nurse gently guides Emily to a bed, carefully pushing her to sit down.

She gets out her penlight.

"You're in shock, Ms Prentiss," the nurse explains. "Were you hit? Your face is swollen."

"He cut her," Emily murmurs, still staring down the hall where Violet disappeared. "Her stomach. He cut her. They have to fix it."

"Ms Prentiss," the nurse says firmly, forcing Emily to meet her eyes. "They're going to fix it."

Emily feels like she's vibrating but that the nurse is speaking in slow motion. She blinks, starting to feel dizzy.

"Lie back, Ms Prentiss," the nurse says quietly, helping Emily lean backwards.

She gets halfway there when everything goes black.

Her body falls into the gurney as the nurse calls for the doctor.

* * *

JJ walks down the hospital hallway towards the visitor's lounge. She turns the corner and smiles, small, seeing the entire BAU.

They stand up, eager for news.

"They're both okay," she assures them.

Penelope's eyes fill and she covers her face as relief washes over her. Derek wraps an arm around her, guiding her into his shoulder.

Gideon and Hotch exhale in their quiet, stoic way, and Spencer clears his throat, blinking as the good news fills his ears.

"They're both in shock," JJ informs them. "Violet's really dehydrated and she took a couple hits to the face. The doctor says no broken bones, though. It…looks awful."

"He hit her?" Penelope whispers, horrified.

"One of his sidekicks," Derek mutters.

Penelope shakes her head slowly in disbelief as tears spill again from her eyes.

"Emily's in shock, but she should be awake any minute. She passed out once a nurse got her to a gurney," JJ finishes.

"When can we see them?" Derek asks.

* * *

Emily wakes up to find herself in a hospital room. It takes a split second for everything to come back to her.

She sits up. Her head rushes and her hand comes up to cover her forehead. Seeing the IV, she frowns, not remembering being looked at by the nurse.

She finds where the needle is and reaches for the tape.

"Ah, ah," Derek says, as the team appears in the doorway. "Leave it."

"Where's Violet?" Emily demands, beginning to move her legs.

"She's okay," JJ assures her, placing a hand on Emily's leg firmly. "You need to rest. You can see her as soon as they bring her back."

"Where did they take her?" Emily asks, not soothed.

"For X-rays," JJ replies.

She makes Emily move her leg back and JJ covers them with the blanket.

"We're glad you're alright," Hotch says calmly. "Both of you."

Emily blinks, unable to speak. She simply nods.

* * *

A little while later, after the blood is cleaned off of her, her bruises are tended to, and the cut on her stomach is stitched, Violet is wheeled to the area where Emily is. She wakes up, feeling heavy and confused from the drugs. She looks around, taking in her surroundings and realizing where she is, closing her eyes with relief.

For a moment, she was scared that she'd dreamed getting out of the hangar.

"Violet," she hears a familiar voice.

Her eyes move to find the source, settling on Dr. Saunders. She smiles down at Violet.

"Do you remember what happened, honey?"

Violet blinks, images flashing through her mind. She nods.

"Where's my mom?" she murmurs drunkenly.

"We'll take you to her," Dr. Saunders promises.

The bed is wheeled down the hall and into the room where Emily is, filling the space where a second bed should be.

The team moves to give the doctors space, and Emily moves to get out of the bed as soon as she sees Violet.

Derek sees this at the last moment and quickly wheels her IV forwards, so it doesn't yank.

Emily looks down at the swollen rainbow of colours that stain the left side of Violet's face. Her hands shake as she reaches forward, hesitating because she doesn't want to hurt her.

But then Violet opens her eyes and Emily's dark eyes begin to swim.

"Baby," Emily whispers, gently smoothing hair from her face.

"Are you okay?" Violet murmurs, her eyelids and eyes moving slowly.

"I'm fine, baby. What do you need? Are you in much pain?" Emily demands, looking down towards Violet's thin legs, covered by a blanket.

"I'm okay," Violet replies, unable to fight the drugs.

"I know," Emily breathes through a sob. "I know you are. You're so strong, honey."

Violet's eyes again blink slowly. She sees the team, standing near the end of her bed. She attempts a smile and her head falls to the side as she looks back to her mother.

"I'm so sorry," Emily whispers, several tears falling.

"No," Violet tries to raise a hand to touch Emily, but her coordination is nonexistent. "Don't. I love you."

Her eyes close so slowly. Emily watches the dark green disappear behind the thick black lashes.

"I love you," she whispers, pressing her lips to Violet's forehead. "I love you so much."


	40. Chapter 40

Emily is out of the hospital bed and discharged as soon as the doctor agrees that she's fine.

She changes into the clothes that JJ went and picked up for her, and takes her place at Violet's bedside.

She's been so loopy from drugs that Emily had barely gotten to speak to her.

She looks up and smiles as Penelope appears, carrying two coffee cups.

"Thought you could use some," she says, handing one to Emily.

"You're a saint, you know that?" Emily replies, taking a sip.

"How is she?" Penelope asks, setting down her purse as she takes a seat next to Emily.

"She's been asleep," Emily replies quietly.

Penelope gives her free hand a squeeze.

"She's so strong, Em," she smiles comfortingly. "You did such an amazing job raising her. I know you're worried — we all are; it's a horrible feeling — but with Violet…. She's strong."

Emily smiles gratefully, blinking quickly as her eyes start to tingle.

They both turn to stare at Violet, in her 10th straight hour of sleep.

"Has Strauss said anything?" Emily asks, running her thumb along the back of Violet's hand as she grips it.

"She was asking about Violet," Penelope replies. "And…she was a little surprised to learn _all _the details of your former employment."

"Everybody knows now?" Emily murmurs.

"That you were a CIA agent for Interpol who single-handedly nabbed several wanted men? Uh, yeah," Penelope replies.

Emily manages a small smile. It makes Penelope smile in return.

"Why didn't you want us to know?" she asks gently.

"I don't know," Emily sighs, looking back at Violet. "I guess I was just looking for a fresh start. I could…be myself, use my own name, I didn't have to pretend to be someone else. Some people might look at me differently, knowing I was basically paid to seduce and trick men for a living."

Penelope tilts her head as Emily half-smiles at her own words.

"We're your family," she says, taking Emily's hand again. "Don't you know that by now?"

Emily opens and then closes her mouth, looking down for a moment.

"We love you and Violet," Penelope adds. "You're both part of this family now."

Emily gifts her a small smile in reply.

"Thanks, Garcia," she says softly, glancing away again.

She's tired — exhausted, actually — and she's feeling overly emotional and touchy. She hates it.

"I should warn you," Penelope says suddenly, just remembering. "The team is going to be here in about an hour."

"They don't have to-" Emily begins.

"Ah," Penelope breathes, looking at Emily sternly. "Don't even try it."

Emily grins, taking a sip of her coffee and leaning back in the chair.

* * *

Penelope leaves to run an errand, and about 20 minutes after that, Violet begins to stir.

Her fingers twitch and Emily's eyes snap to her, feeling the movement against her own palm.

"Honey," she says softly, standing up. "I'm right here."

Violet's drunken body moves slowly. She blinks twice in slow motion.

"Mom," she whispers, her throat dry.

"It's me, baby," Emily says, pushing hair from Violet's forehead. "I'm right here."

Violet becomes more awake, opening her eyes fully and moving more.

"Are you okay?" Violet rasps.

Emily laughs breathily and smiles. "I'm fine, honey. Let's worry about the Prentiss in the hospital bed, hm?"

Violet half-smiles, stretching and then wincing from the pain.

Emily tries to focus on Violet's eyes, and not on the swollen, darkly coloured bruise on the left side of her face. The skin around her left eye is swollen and dark, but the worst of Teo's blows landed on Violet's cheek, causing her cheekbone to bear the worst of it.

Her wrists are bruised and swollen where the handcuffs were, and generally her entire body is sore. At least, it would be if she wasn't high on painkillers.

"Do you need anything? Are you in pain?" Emily asks, concerned.

"I can't feel anything," Violet mumbles. "It's kind of awesome."

Emily shakes her head, amused.

But it quickly fades. Smiling feels wrong right now. Laughing felt worse.

"Vi," she begins, and clears her throat. She shakes her head slowly. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. If I'd known that-"

"Mom," Violet murmurs, squeezing Emily's hand back. "It wasn't your fault. Don't…don't think about it like that."

Emily breathes, wishing it were that easy.

They hear voices and Emily turns to see Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Morgan appear in the doorway.

"Oo, oo, oo!" they hear, a little further down the hallway.

Penelope appears, slightly out of breath, in the doorway.

"Did she wake up? Did I miss it?" she asks, coming inside.

She sees Violet, awake and watching her, and lets her breath out in a loud noise of relief.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she cries, rushing over to carefully hug Violet.

"Thanks Penelope," Violet smiles slowly.

"How're you feelin', tough stuff?" Derek asks, stepping forward after Penelope.

"Good," she replies.

He bends down to kiss her forehead.

"Good to hear," he smiles. "And see."

They stand together at Violet's bedside, several conversations starting up at the same time as Hotch asks Emily how she's doing, Penelope asks Derek about something, and Reid and JJ come to talk to Violet.

"We were pretty worried about you, babe," JJ says, squeezing Violet's hand.

"You should try whatever this is," Violet gestures towards her IV. "Worries don't exist here."

JJ almost laughs.

As everyone chatters, Hotch asks Emily how she's doing; seriously.

"I'm…having a bad day," she breathes. "A few of them."

"I want you to take all the personal time you need," he tells her.

She nods.

"I…can't imagine what it's going to be like once the drugs wear off and she has to really…remember everything," she confesses.

Hotch looks over at Violet, and then back at Emily.

"Well she's a fighter," he replies. "The world will never come to Violet — Violet will go to the world."

Emily doesn't suppress a small grin; Hotch even crinkles his eyes a little at his own locution as Emily nods in agreement.

"And she's got one of the strongest women I've ever met as her mother," Hotch adds. "So I wouldn't worry too much about her. She'll get through this…. You both will."

Emily nods her appreciation, since her throat has tightened. She gestures her thanks to Hotch.

* * *

"Why do I have to be here?" Violet asks a few hours later, when she's less loopy and more coherent.

"Dr. Saunders wants you here for observation," Emily explains.

"Like some kind of zoo exhibit," Violet mumbles, moving into a comfortable position on the hospital bed.

"As soon as she gives me the green light, we'll go," Emily promises.

Her phone rings and she sees her mother's name. She inhales tiredly. She's been putting off this call, but someone obviously tipped her off.

"Mom," Emily answers.

"Emily, what's going on?" comes Elizabeth Prentiss's concerned tone. "Graham told me that you and Violet were involved in some sort of _kidnapping _situation?"

"Calm down, Mother," Emily says quietly. She can't speak loudly or with animation; she's too tired. "I'll explain everything."

"Is Violet alright?" Elizabeth demands.

"Yes," Emily replies, even though her heart hurts with the pain of seeing her daughter's bruised face and the memory of watching her at the mercy of Teo and Gio. "She's alright. She's here with me, awake."

"What happened?" Elizabeth breathes.

Emily takes a breath, Violet's eyes begin to close.

Emily begins the tale of telling her mother about the last few, horrible days. In between Elizabeth's admonishments and gasps of horror, Emily fills her in on the details of Violet's injuries.

"Have they done X-rays? Scans?"

"They've done everything," Emily replies, watching as Violet slips into another drug-induced sleep. "Dr. Saunders says she's as good as we can hope for. She's sore…and she's really tired, but…. She's okay."

Elizabeth gives all of it a moment to settle in.

"And you, dear?" she asks.

"I'm fine," Emily replies dismissively.

"Emily," Elizabeth says knowingly.

"Minor bruising, it's nothing," Emily insists. "We really just need to focus on Violet right now."

"I can be on a flight by-"

"No," Emily cuts her off. She needs to word this without offending her mother. "No, it's okay. Really, Mom. We just need to get home so Violet can rest and heal. We're fine."

Elizabeth hesitates.

"Alright, dear," she finally replies. "You'll let me know if there's anything I can do?"

"Of course," Emily replies quietly.

"I'd like to speak to Violet."

"She just fell back asleep. She's pretty woozy."

"Well, later then."

"Yeah," Emily agrees. "As soon as she wakes up."

"Alright," Elizabeth says, satisfied but still worried about her granddaughter. "I'll talk to you both soon, then."

"Okay."

"I love you, Emily."

Emily pauses in surprise, but she realizes that this is a moment where she almost needed to hear that. "I love you, too."


	41. Chapter 41

Violet exhales, tired and irritable, as they enter the apartment.

As Emily locks the door behind them, the buzzer sounds. She frowns and presses the button.

"Hello?"

"Emily," comes a breathless voice. "I saw you guys driving and tried to catch up."

"Matthew?" Emily guesses, as Violet turns to face her, listening.

"Yes," Matthew breathes.

"Come on up, honey," Emily says, after Violet gestures to her.

"He's probably been calling me," Violet realizes.

Her phone was recovered from the scene, but it had been destroyed.

"I talked to him," Emily replies.

"You did? When?" Violet asks, sitting down slowly on the couch. Her body still aches and her face is still purple and blue, with faded bits of yellow and green.

"The day after," Emily answers, hanging up her jacket. "I figured he'd be wondering where you were. He was pretty freaked out."

Violet exhales, sinking further into the couch. A moment later, a quick knock brings Emily back to the door.

"Hey," she smiles warmly when she sees Matthew.

His fine-boned features are flattened into worry and he's more pale than usual.

He comes inside, hurrying over to Violet as Emily closes the door.

"Oh my god," Matthew breathes, his jaw dropping slightly as he sees his best friend.

"It looks worse than it is," Violet replies tiredly, sitting up.

Matthew sits beside her and reaches for her. He hesitates, wondering if he'll hurt her.

"It's okay," she insists, reaching her arms out.

She clenches her jaw when his hug is too tight and her body aches, feeling like she is one giant bruise.

"I can't believe this happened," he says, his voice near tears. "I should have walked with you. I didn't have to go to th-"

"It's nobody's fault," Violet says, raising her hands slightly. "Seriously."

Matthew shakes his head slowly, taking in her appearance.

"What _happened_? I mean, your mom told me that you were taken outside the school, but..."

"Does anyone else know?" Violet asks quickly, her eyes suddenly more alert.

"Um, I don't think so," Matthew says slowly, thinking. "But I don't really talk to anyone at school, so…. Why? What's wrong?"

"I don't want people knowing about it," Violet replies, rubbing her eyes.

"No one's said anything to me," Matthew tells her.

"I talked to the principal, baby," Emily says from the kitchen. "I told him it was confidential information and any questions about it could be directed to me."

Violet nods slowly, feeling a little relieved.

Matthew looks at her, his brow furrowed with concern and his blue eyes looking bigger than usual, as he waits for Violet to speak.

"This guy from Italy," Violet explains, shaking her head.

She's still on painkillers, though a lower dose, so her movements and speech are still a bit drunken.

"He came with these other beefcakes and grabbed me," she tells him.

Emily listens silently from the kitchen. Dr. Saunders referred Violet to a child psychologist; someone who can help make sure that this doesn't destroy the girl Violet is. Violet spoke to him once, and really liked him, but as the medicine fades, she's starting to balk at talking about everything.

"Why?" Matthew demands, confused and wanting answers. "Why did they have to take you? What were they looking for?"

Violet rolls her eyes slowly, shaking her head as one hand lifts and falls lazily. "Revenge. I dunno."

"Revenge for what?"

Violet takes a breath.

She hates the way the memories make her feel. She knows she can't just bottle all of this stuff inside her — she knows what that kind of repression can do — but the anxiety and fear that brews inside her chest is sickening.

"Just this…case that Mom worked on like, 10 years ago."

Matthew frowns through his amazement. "Ten years?"

"Yeah. We were in Italy and she had to reel in this dirtbag who was selling guns all over Europe. Illegally, obviously."

Matthew's brow raises. He turns to look at Emily, who's standing at the kitchen island with a bottle of water.

"Were you like…Jason Bourne or something?"

Emily scoffs breathily. "Or something."

Matthew looks back to Violet. "Where did they take you?"

Emily realizes that she's glad Matthew is asking Violet all of this. With the psychologist, Violet is hesitant. But with her best friend, she's talking more freely.

"This old warehouse out by Ross Trail," Violet replies. "I just sat in this room for a long time."

"And he…hit you," Matthew says, his mouth flattening into an angry line.

"No, this dickhead named Teo did," Violet tells him. "Giovanni got him to do most of his dirty work. He just cut me a little."

Matthew's eyes blaze. "What?"

"He was just trying to get to Mom," Violet exhales, burrowed into the corner of the sectional couch.

"Cut you _a little_?" Matthew stares.

Emily blinks rapidly, feeling her eyes tingle.

"Don't freak out," Violet breathes.

"Where did he cut you?" Matthew demands.

Violet slowly lets one leg straighten out. She lifts her shirt to reveal the bandaged area of her abdomen.

"How deep?" Matthew stares, his voice rising slightly.

"Not very," Violet replies.

Matthew's mouth opens again, as he stares at Violet and then glances at Emily.

"What was he hoping to accomplish here? Did he just want to hurt you and make your mom watch?"

"Basically," Violet nods slowly, remembering the sound of her mother's scream as it pierced the air, begging Gio to stop. It makes her throat tighten so she shakes her head slightly, hoping to toss it out.

"Well where is he?" Matthew demands.

"Dead," Violet answers bluntly. "Mom shot him in the head."

Emily glides her tongue along her upper teeth, hating the brusque tone of Violet's words.

What is she doing, getting her own child dragged into this world?

"Good," Matthew says, his voice hard. "I can't believe this. You could have _died_."

"But I didn't," Violet replies.

She had this conversation with Dr. Zusak this morning before she left the hospital. It exhausts her to think that they'll be having it again, since the psychologist will be making home visits four days a week.

"Vi," Matthew says, surprised by her tone.

"I don't wanna talk about it anymore," she says, a little more irritated than she had intended to sound.

"Sorry," Matthew says, taken aback. "I just…I was really worried about you."

Violet's anger dissipates. She looks at Matthew and sees the fear, dappled across his face like freckles.

She reaches out and squeezes his hand.

"I know. I'm sorry," she says quietly.

Matthew blinks as his eyes fill.

"Please don't," Violet almost whispers.

If she sees someone else cry, it makes her cry.

And she's cried enough lately.

Matthew blinks back his tears and nods.

"Come here," she tells him.

He moves closer and envelopes her in his arms.

Violet breathes in the familiar scent of him — cologne and a light vanilla scent — and blinks back tears of her own.

She knows she could have died.

She knows that.

She could have never gotten this hug with Matthew, or the team visiting her happily in the hospital.

She could have had to watch from another world as her mother's universe fell apart.

And that's the part that hurts the most.

* * *

"How is she?" JJ asks Emily over the phone.

Emily looks down at Violet's head in her lap. The medication knocks her out within 15 minutes of taking it. Violet sleeps soundly as Emily strokes her silken hair.

"Sleeping," Emily replies quietly.

"Em," JJ says knowingly.

"I don't know," Emily replies, closing her eyes. "She talked about it a little bit today, when we got home. Matthew came over…. But I'm scared."

"I know," JJ replies gently. "I know it's easier said than done, but she's going to pull through this. Whatever it takes, we'll make sure of it."

Emily smiles through the tears that cause Violet's face to blur.

"Thanks, JJ," she murmurs.

"What about you? How are you holding up? You've barely slept in almost a week."

"I'm fine," Emily answers.

"Don't lie to a profiler," JJ teases.

Emily joins her in a light laugh. JJ only recently began mixing her communication liaising with profiling.

"Penelope already has a schedule prepared, if you don't start sleeping," JJ warns.

"A schedule?"

"Yep. Someone to come and hang out and eat all of your food, and make sure you sleep."

"That's ridiculous."

"So is the amount of sleeping you're running on," JJ replies. "If Vi's asleep, you should be, too. Just like when she was a baby."

Emily takes a breath.

"She keeps having nightmares," she confesses quietly.

"That's normal," JJ says softly. "She went through a really traumatic experience. She's probably going to have some pretty fucked up dreams for awhile. But you can't sit up and wait for them to happen."

"Sometimes she doesn't even wake up. She cries and doesn't even wake up."

Emily blinks as tears gather on her lower lash line.

"Em. You need to take care of you, if you want to take care of her," JJ tells her, firmly but gently.

"I know," Emily breathes, her palm smoothing Violet's hair, the exact same colour as her own.

"Sleep," JJ repeats. "Otherwise I _will _utilize the key I have to your house, and I _will _make a copy for Penelope. Which means _she _will put her schedule into action."

Emily smiles, laughing quietly through her tears.

"You wouldn't dare," she says.

"Oh I would," JJ replies.

The two friends pass the silence between them, comfortable just having each other there.

Emily thought she was going to lose her daughter…and JJ thought she was going to lose both of them.

"You both need time to heal, Em," JJ tells her. "We're all here for you guys."

"Thanks," Emily says quietly.

"Don't thank us," JJ replies. "We're your family. That's what family does."


	42. Chapter 42

Violet sits on the couch with Matthew while Emily replies to emails on her laptop in the kitchen.

The TV is playing but Violet and Matthew aren't paying attention; they're just chatting.

Matthew brings up the fact that his dad recently took him to a hockey game. Something that they'd never done together before, but both of his parents are trying to be better and more supportive of him.

"Did you ever meet your dad?" Matthew asks, looking at Violet.

Their heads are on opposite ends of one part of the sectional, with their feet meeting in the middle, legs entangled.

"No," Violet replies easily.

Emily, her back to them, pauses in her typing but then continues.

"Have you ever wanted to?" Matthew asks.

"For like, a week. When I was 10 or so," Violet shrugs. "I kind of skirted around asking about him, since all I really knew was that he was from London and his name is David. I finally just asked Mom about it and she told me. He was more interested in himself and his career than he was in being a 'family man.'"

Matthew glances towards the kitchen island, where Emily continues to type her email.

"Where'd you meet him, Emily?" he asks, his chin resting on the back of the couch.

Emily stops typing and slowly stands up to face them. She scratches her chin, stretching a bit.

"He was stationed in Greece at the same time as me," she replies.

She comes to the couch and leans on the back. Violet looks up at her.

"So, what, he just found out you were pregnant and hit the road?" Matthew looks disgusted.

"Pretty much," Emily shrugs.

"Does he know? That you kept the baby?"

"He knows," she nods slowly. "Like Vi said. He's a selfish man."

"Well, was he a total minx in the sack or something? Why would you wanna be with someone like that?"

Violet's mouth drops open slightly and she laughs at Matthew's bluntness.

"I mean, not in a rude way," Matthew quickly adds to Emily. "I just mean how do people end up with dickheads like that?"

"I don't know," Emily chuckles, resting on her forearms. "I was 29, I was young. He had a sexy accent and a gun."

"That rhymed," Violet points out.

Emily grins, reaching one arm down to slide her palm against Violet's hair.

"So he was a minx in the sack," Matthew replies knowingly.

"Can we not talk about my mother 'in the sack'?" Violet asks, palms raised.

Matthew shrugs, unbothered.

"When was the last time you talked to him?" he goes on, intrigued with the exciting life of E. and V. Prentiss.

Emily thinks for a second. "Um…when Vi was about three. We were in Italy by then, and he got in contact with me when he learned that we were about an hour away from each other."

Matthew waits expectantly.

"And? Come on, Emily, I want details!" he says.

"Alright, jeez," she teases, coming to sit beside Violet.

She absently starts smoothing her daughter's dark hair.

"He asked if I wanted to meet up for coffee, so I said sure. I had told him the last time we'd talked before that, that I was keeping the baby," Emily explains.

Violet examines the polish chipping off of her fingernails. She's heard this story already, several times.

"He showed up, saw me with Violet," Emily shrugs. "That was pretty much it."

"He just walked away?" Matthew frowns.

"No, by the time he saw Violet he was close to the table. I saw him, he saw me, he saw Vi."

"How could he not want to know her?" Matthew asks, looking personally offended.

"I don't know," Emily shakes her head in agreement, looking down at Violet. "He asked if I wanted money, I told him to go fist himself. And he left."

Violet chuckles breathily as Matthew's jaw drops.

"You did not."

"Oh, I did," Emily assures him. "And it felt great. Not that I condone that kind of behaviour."

"I think you're too late on that one," Matthew replies dryly, raising an eyebrow at Violet.

"Yes," Emily exhales. "She is a feisty one."

It's quiet for a moment as Matthew takes in the story, Violet again picks at her nails, and Emily looks down at Violet.

"Well, I'm sorry he turned out to be such a douche nozzle, but I'm glad the two of you met and banged one out," Matthew replies with nonchalance. "Otherwise, I don't know where I'd be without Vi."

"Gross," Emily replies with a smile. "And me too."

"You're disgusting," Violet shakes her head. "You can't come over anymore."

"Yeah, right," Matthew rolls his eyes.

He picks up a gossip magazine off the coffee table and leans back.

"You guys hungry yet?" Emily asks, smoothing the hair off Violet's forehead and bending down to kiss it before she stands up.

"Always," Matthew replies. "Did you guys hear that Paris Hilton is now calling herself a DJ?"

"Right," Violet scoffs. "Paris Hilton's a DJ. In that case, I'm a dragon."

"I've never really been into blondes," Matthew says, flipping the magazine page. "Except that guy from _Sons of Anarchy_. I would definitely get in on that."

Emily stands beside the couch, frowning at Matthew with a mixture of amazement and distaste.

"So, dinner then," she says slowly.

"Oh, do you want some help?" Matthew asks, setting down the magazine.

"Oh, no honey, that's fine," Emily waves dismissively.

"Nah, come on. I need to learn to be more domestic," Matthew replies, walking into the kitchen.

Emily looks over at Violet, still burrowed in the couch. Violet rolls her eyes, amused, and Emily smiles, just glad to see Violet acting more like herself.

It's been almost two weeks since the incident, and four days since Violet's been home from the hospital.

Her bruises are fading but still visible, her cheek looking the worst, and she's no longer taking the heavy-duty painkillers that turned her into a zombie.

Still, she won't leave the house, she doesn't have her usual appetite, and she's more quiet than Emily likes. She's used to a witty, quick, happy Violet, and it makes her heart hurt when she looks over randomly and sees her daughter lost in thought, staring out the window or just at the carpet.

Emily joins Matthew in the kitchen.

"What's your plan here, babe?" she asks, as he adds more things to a small pile on the island.

"Vi's favourite pasta?" he suggests, standing upright to look at Emily. "Spaghettini, little tiny tomatoes, fresh parm? Oh, do you have basil?"

"Actually, we do," Emily replies, walking over to the fridge. "Compliments of Haley's herb garden."

"No way, she grows her own?" Matthew says, impressed, taking the little bag.

"Yep. She's a woman of many talents," Emily replies.

They start working as Violet flips a few channels and then stops on the Food Network.

"Emily," Matthew says, so quiet that Emily almost doesn't hear him.

She looks up and sees his usual happy face looking worried.

"How long do you think until she's…Violet again?" he asks in a near whisper.

Emily presses her lips together, wishing she knew; wishing she could snap her fingers and fix it.

"Soon, I hope," she tells him, trying to be optimistic.

She gives Matthew's hand a squeeze and he smiles, small but appreciative.

They work silently, slicing tomatoes and chopping basil as the pasta boils.

After a few moments, Matthew nudges her.

"Hey Vi," Matthew calls out, grinning at Emily. "You wanna watch _Twilight_?"

"Ugh," comes Violet's disgusted reply. "I'd rather listen to you talk about my mother 'in the sack' for two hours than watch that garbage."

Matthew laughs, thoroughly entertained, while Emily chuckles a bit through her surprise at Violet's response.

"Hey," she says, looking towards the couch.

"Brevity is the soul of wit, Mumsy," Violet's head appears, peering over the couch.

"Well let's keep the brevity away from my sex life," Emily replies dryly.

"With relish," Violet rolls her eyes, falling back into the couch.

* * *

After dinner, Matthew and Violet work on the homework that Matthew brought by for her.

As far as school is concerned, Emily is thinking she might just have to get a tutor for Violet. She's been missing so much school and Emily won't have her falling behind.

Emily is on her laptop when the phone rings.

She eyes the caller ID and grins.

"Hello Penelope," she answers.

"Well hello," comes Penelope's cheerful reply. "How are my Prentiss's doing today?"

"We're well," Emily responds. "I just had Matthew hand my ass to me in the kitchen."

"That guy is just full of surprises," Penelope says.

"Yeah," Emily says, smiling at Matthew as he grins proudly. "Especially for a kid who claimed to need practice in the art of domesticity."

"From you?"

"Come on," Emily laughs.

"I'm kidding," Penelope grins. "How's Vi doing?"

"Good," Emily says, walking towards the stairs.

"Are you going into a different room?" Penelope asks, knowing.

"Yeah," Emily answers.

She reaches the top stair and goes into her bedroom.

"Is she alright?" Penelope asks with concern.

"Well, there were several moments of _my _Violet," Emily replies with a sigh. "But mostly she's overshadowed by the Violet who has gone through hell in the last few months."

"Just keep doing what you're doing, Mama," Penelope replies gently. "It's all going to be alright. I promise."

Emily lets out a breathy laugh.

"You're a really great person, you know that, Garcia?"

"Yes," Penelope replies happily. "And so are you. So listen, there's this bookstore opening up downtown. Supposed to be pretty amazing, lots of first editions and rare books. I was thinking of taking Violet."

"Aw, Garcia, that's so sweet. She would love that."

"I know, it's perfect. I figured we'd have a little date. Get some coffee, check out the books."

Emily's smile fades a little.

"That sounds wonderful," she replies.

"I know what you're thinking," Penelope says quickly. "I know she hasn't really left the house, but this grand opening is a week from Saturday. By that time, we're gonna have that girl up and back in the world."

Emily smiles, staring down at her fingernails, which are looking a little worse for the wear.

"How about I come talk to her about it tomorrow," Penelope goes on.

"Of course," Emily replies. "We'd love to have you over."

"Excellent. I will see you both tomorrow at approximately 5:45."

"You got it," Emily nods.

A few moments later she walks back downstairs to find Violet and Matthew laughing at the TV. Emily gets closer and sees Jimmy Fallon and smiles. Violet loves his show.

She goes back to the island where her laptop sits.

"What did Penelope say?" Violet asks from the couch.

"She's gonna come visit tomorrow," Emily replies, giving Violet a smile as she peers at her over the back of the couch.

"Cool," Violet replies, lying back down.

Emily smiles, exhaling quietly.

She really hopes the enticement of a bookstore's grand opening is enough to get Violet to leave the house.


	43. Chapter 43

**Here's what happened that day in Italy…**

* * *

"Cucciolo," three-year-old Violet points at a nearby dog.

"Si," Emily smiles proudly. "Cucciolo."

Violet's first language is English, and she knows a lot of Greek. Emily plans to make sure she's fluent. And now she's learning Italian. The foreign words sound adorable in her tiny voice.

Violet grins and looks back at the dog until its owner has walked it out of sight.

Emily glances around. She's not nervous, she's just…a bit tense. David doesn't know that she's brought Violet.

David doesn't even know that Emily had a girl.

"Vuoi una fragola?" Emily asks Violet.

_Do you want a strawberry?_

Violet takes the offered snack in her chubby little fist, her dark-green eyes twinkling up at Emily.

"Fragola," she repeats, testing the word for herself.

"Si," Emily nods encouragingly.

"Grazie," Violet grins, putting the strawberry in her mouth.

Emily laughs. "You're welcome," she smiles as Violet giggles.

Her dark hair is pulled up in two little pigtails. She looks so cute, Emily keeps looking at her, just to look at her.

Sometimes she still can't believe that Violet is hers; that she's a mother.

But she also can't remember a time when Violet wasn't here. It's like she's always been here.

Emily lifts Violet onto her lap and pushes her own long, dark hair behind her ear.

She busies Violet with a book.

Neither Emily nor Elizabeth was surprised when Violet knew her alphabet, could count to 10 in several languages, and was speaking complete sentences by the time she was two. Emily was always smart and advanced. It's no surprise that her daughter is the same.

"Emily," she hears a voice she hasn't heard in years.

The little hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

She looks up as David reaches the table and pulls out a chair. He's already starting to sit down when he sees Violet. It causes him to pause and lower himself slowly into his chair.

"Oh," he murmurs, looking at the beautiful little girl.

Violet has always been shy. She leans back into her mother, covering most of her face with her book.

"David," Emily greets him calmly.

Thank god she became an expert at coming across as immovable a long time ago.

"You…you had a girl," he says, glancing from Violet to her.

"Yes," Emily replies, Violet turning her face away, against her chest now, as she examines the stranger in front of them.

"I don't…" he begins.

"You wanted to get together," Emily raises her eyebrow slightly.

"Well, I assumed it would be a visit between…us," he answers.

His expensive suit, shining watch, and Italian leather shoes scream his wealth to the world. He's clean-shaven with dark hair and light green eyes. It's where Violet got the green in her own eyes, albeit hers are dark; almost forest green. David's are icy and clear; easily cold and quick to show anger.

"We're kind of a packaged deal," Emily replies, shifting Violet so she can cross her legs. "So. You look well."

David glances again at Violet. He is noticeably uncomfortable.

"As do you," he replies with a gracious nod. "To be expected, I suppose. You've always been beautiful."

Emily laughs lightly, looking away from him and licking her lips.

"Look, you should know that you fathered a daughter," she says calmly, dropping the container of strawberries into her bag. "Her name's Violet...and she's amazing."

Violet looks up at her mother and then back at David.

"I'm sure she is," David replies politely.

He looks wary of her, as though the toddler is dirty and about to smear his suit.

"Relax, David," Emily tells him, annoyed. "I'm not about to let you hold her."

"I wasn't…" David starts, but then sits a little straighter. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. It's just... I would have been a disappointment, had we stayed together."

"I'm the one who left," Emily replies, not about to let him get condescending. "This isn't about what happened that day. I wanted you to see her. I wanted you to realize what you've chosen to ignore."

David glances down, pursing his lips a little.

"I'm not fit to be someone's father," he says.

Emily takes a breath, tired of his excuses. She looks at him, her head tilted in irritation.

"Can I…do anything for you both? Do you need money?" he asks.

Emily's eyes widen slightly at his arrogance. A dry laugh dances its way out of her mouth.

"No, David," she replies. "I don't need money. I don't need anything from you."

She stands up, swinging her bag onto her shoulder and settling Violet on her hip.

"I'll do everything I can to give my child everything she could possibly need. I may not be able to give her her father, but I'd rather her go without one than have to suffer the embarrassment of having you as hers."

His cold green eyes stare at her.

She wraps the Italian words around her tongue, relishing their bite. "Go fuck yourself," she mutters, dangerously quiet.

Any tension she might have felt at first is gone. Right now she feels only triumph, piled on top of the guilty feeling she gets when she thinks of Violet not having a father.

Smoothly, Emily turns on one heel and walks away, leaving David standing there alone.

* * *

Emily walks towards her car.

"Why are you sad, Mummy?" Violet's little voice asks.

Emily places her palm on Violet's head, pulling it towards her lips so she can kiss the impossibly soft baby skin.

"I'm not sad, baby," she tells Violet.

"I don't like him," Violet says after a moment.

Emily laughs lightly.

"That's okay, baby. I don't either."

They reach the car and Emily gets Violet settled in her car seat.

She clips the middle clasp and suddenly, Violet's tiny hand comes up to palm her cheek.

Emily stops and looks into her beautiful eyes with their impossibly perfect lashes. Violet smiles then, and her eyes light up. It makes Emily's heart twinge and she can never not smile back when she sees that face.

"I love you, Mummy," Violet says softly.

Emily's throat aches, as she moves Violet's hand so she can kiss her palm.

"I love you, baby," she replies, kissing Violet's forehead and then tracing a finger down her plump cheeks. "More than anything else."


	44. Chapter 44

When Penelope arrives Violet is up in the shower. She comes bearing coffee and the two of them sit at the island to catch up.

Upstairs, Violet steps out of the shower. She's been trying to avoid seeing herself in mirrors, but it's difficult in a bathroom with a huge one that stretches from above the sink, across the entire wall.

She catches a glimpse of herself and exhales. The left side of her face, bloomed outwards from her cheekbone, is purple and green and yellow. It's not swollen anymore and her eye isn't black anymore, but it's a gross bruise and she hates it. Her wrists are still a little bruised from the handcuffs, and the cut on her stomach, that took 14 stitches, is a visible, red, healing line.

She hates her reflection.

She wraps a towel around her thin body, avoiding the mirror with her eyes.

She combs out her long black hair that reaches the middle of her back and then leaves the bathroom.

Her mother and Penelope can be heard downstairs. She's actually really looking forward to seeing Penelope. The only people she's seen since everything happened are the team and Matthew.

Haley Hotchner came by one day, bringing cupcakes and a bouquet of violets. Except Violet refused to come downstairs.

She really likes Haley, but she won't let anyone who wasn't there that night see her or her face.

Dr. Haddon, her new therapist, explained to Emily that it's a feeling of shame and fear that's preventing Violet from being herself; from showing her face to people.

That night, Emily had waited until Violet fell asleep — still sleeping in her mother's bed rather than her own — and then she'd locked herself in the bathroom, turned on the shower, and cried for half an hour. At the end of her breakdown, she'd actually had a dry little laugh about the fact that her daughter deals with her emotions the same way that she does — she does her best to hide them from other people.

Except Violet can't hide from her mother. Emily knows her better than she knows herself.

Violet gets dressed and weaves her long hair into a loose braid before going downstairs.

Penelope's face lights up as she sees her, descending the last stairs.

"Hey you!" she smiles, standing up from her stool at the island.

She reaches her arms out towards Violet, wrapping her in a warm hug.

"Hi," Violet murmurs with a small smile.

"Look at you," Penelope says, holding onto Violet's arms as she smiles at her. "Looking just as gorgeous as always."

Violet blushes, averting her eyes, but Penelope just tips her chin up and winks at her.

"That bruise is as good as gone. A few more days."

They step back towards the island and Violet takes a seat beside her mother. Emily slides a hand along her back.

"Penelope brought you your favourite tea," she says, pushing the cup towards her.

Violet grins shyly and picks it up, smelling the lid.

"Red velvet cake," she says.

"I know you love it," Penelope replies.

"Love is an understatement," Emily replies. "She goes through a tin of that stuff in two weeks."

Violet takes a sip.

"Thanks," she tells Penelope.

"Don't mention it, sweetie."

Sergio appears from his spot on the farthest window sill from the kitchen, meowing as he slides through Penelope's ankles.

"Well hello, handsome. I was wondering when you'd come say hello," she says, picking him up.

"He's a very busy guy," Violet says. "He has to sit on that sill all day monitoring the comings and goings of the building."

"Takes his job very seriously," Emily nods in agreement, watching Sergio purr in Penelope's arms.

"Of course he does," Penelope coos.

"Remind us again why you don't have a pet?" Violet asks.

Penelope sighs, kisses Sergio, and then sets him down before sitting down again.

"I've actually been thinking about it more and more," she confesses. "We work such weird hours, I felt like I wouldn't be home enough. But I guess with cats, they're kind of…"

"Snobby?" Violet suggests with a grin.

"Well," Penelope cocks her head.

"Supercilious," Emily says.

"Either way, you can't get around the fact that they're assholes," Violet adds, taking a sip of tea.

Emily closes her eyes, taking a breath, and then turns to look at Violet with a tilted head.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Violet dares her.

Emily reaches out and squeezes Violet's knee, causing her to jump and let out a little squeal.

"They choose their moments," Emily says, giving Violet a wide-eyed look. "Let's just say that."

"Agreed," Violet shrugs. "I love Sergio. But I also recognize that he's a bit of a dick. Are you gonna get a rescue?"

"I think so," Penelope nods. "When I think of all of those kitties just sitting there, without someone to love them?"

Emily and Violet grin, amused.

"You should definitely adopt one," Violet nods. "Sergio may choose his moments, but he's a pretty cool guy. And he actually really likes his alone time. so you don't have to feel bad about him being home alone."

"Will you guys come with me?" Penelope asks, excited about the idea. "We'll have to find a cat that screams Garcia."

"Absolutely," Emily chuckles.

Violet chews her lip and gives a small smile.

"So, Vi, I was thinking we could have a little Penelope Violet date," Penelope smiles.

"Yeah?" Violet says, her brow raising slightly.

"There's this bookstore opening up downtown. We're talking first editions, rare books, you name it. None of this modern vampire crap that you _love_ so much."

Violet glares. "Gross."

Emily and Penelope laugh.

"So what do you think? They open a week from Saturday. I was thinking coffee and shopping?"

"Um," Violet hums, looking at the surface of the island. She runs her thumbnail along the edge.

"Honey, your bruise will be gone in a few days," Emily says softly, running a hand up and down her back. "Don't worry."

Violet glances up at her, looking less like a teenager and more like a scared little girl.

She chews her lip, looking back down at the island.

"I, um," she murmurs, taking her hands off her cup. "I have to…"

She stands up and then hurries towards the stairs.

"Vi," Emily says, standing up. "Baby, come here."

But Violet is already running up the stairs.

"Violet," Emily calls again.

"It's okay," Penelope says gently, giving Emily's hand a squeeze. "It's okay. We'll try again tomorrow."

Emily exhales, rubbing her forehead. She closes her eyes.

"We have 10 days," Penelope assures her. "Ten days until the bookstore opens. Ten days to get her outta here."

"Garcia," Emily breathes, shaking her head as she stares at her fingernails. "We're dealing with a Prentiss here."

"Oh I know," Penelope nods. "Which is why it'll probably take nine days and the morning of the 10th to get somewhere."

Emily gives her a dry look that quickly turns into a quick raise of her eyebrow to denote her agreement.

She sits back down and exhales, looking a little dejected.

"It's one Prentiss's stubbornness against a Mother Prentiss's stubbornness," Penelope adds, giving her a look. "Something tells me you'll come out on top."

* * *

Penelope leaves and Emily goes upstairs. She half expects Violet to be in her room, since that's where she's been sleeping, but she finds her in her own room buried beneath the blankets that haven't been used in weeks.

She lifts the blankets and crawls into the bed, lying on her side.

She reaches up and peels the blankets down, revealing her daughter's big green eyes that look up at her through a sheet of tears.

Emily squirms further down so she's eye level with Violet. She rests her palm on Violet's pale cheek, using her thumb to brush away a tear.

Wordlessly they look at each other, and Emily, for the thousandth time, tries to imagine herself in Violet's position.

How would she feel? What would she do? What would she have done if her own mother had tried to drag her outside of her haven of safety after an ordeal like that?

She puts the conversation on hold and instead just pulls Violet into her arms, wrapping her up in them and wishing she still had the power to make everything in Violet's world okay.


	45. Chapter 45

Emily is downstairs early the next morning when the buzzer rings.

"Hello?"

"Em, it's me. I have coffee."

Emily smiles. "Come on up," she replies.

A few moments later she's opening up the door to see JJ's smiling face.

"Hey," Emily greets her, as JJ gives her a hug.

"Had the day off, figured I was overdue for a date," JJ smiles.

Emily closes the door and takes the offered coffee.

"Thank you," Emily widens her eyes. "I ran out of French roast yesterday."

They go to sit at the island.

JJ looks at her sympathetically. "How's Vi doing?"

Emily exhales, wishing she had more positive news.

"I feel useless," Emily shakes her head. "I don't know what to do to fix this."

"No one expects you to just snap your fingers and fix this," JJ replies.

"I do," Emily says.

JJ smiles. "No," she says sarcastically. "You?"

"Ha ha," Emily shakes her head, but a grin graces her face.

"Seriously," JJ says after a moment. "You're doing everything possible to help her. You've got the therapist coming, you've got her doing school work, she visits with Matthew. And you're here with her. Hotch told you to take the entire month to be with her."

"I know," Emily breathes. "Just feeling a little out of my element."

"This is no one's element," JJ tells her gently.

They hear footsteps upstairs.

"She wakes," JJ widens her eyes.

Emily chuckles.

"Is she talking much?"

"Actually, yeah," Emily tells her with a mixture of surprise and relief. "Sometimes it takes her patience running out for her to blurt something out, but at least she talks."

"What's the therapist like?"

"He's great," Emily replies. "He's really sweet and laid-back, and I can tell that Vi finds him easy to talk to. He doesn't talk to her like she's a little kid or something. She's always hated when people do that. And he always lets me know where she's at."

"Aren't you here while he is?"

"Yeah, but I don't sit down here with them. I usually go upstairs or something. Give them some space."

JJ nods.

"How's work?" Emily asks.

"It was a little crazy this last week," JJ rolls her eyes. "We were in Illinois and then New Mexico. But the last few days have settled a bit, so we finally got to get some down time."

"You guys are okay?"

"We're fine," JJ promises. "Don't worry. We miss you, but you're not putting anyone out by taking some time."

Emily nods, chewing her lip.

They hear footsteps and turn to see Violet's legs appear. She reaches the bottom steps, wearing a pair of pyjama shorts, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie down over her hands. Her hood is pulled up like a protective shroud.

"Hey you," JJ smiles, stepping away from the island to hug Violet. "How've you been?"

"Good," Violet replies quietly, smiling at JJ. "How are you?"

"I've got the day off," JJ replies. "I'm fantastic!"

Violet laughs quietly as she pours a glass of orange juice.

"Are you hungry, honey?" Emily asks, twirling a lock of Violet's hair.

"Not really," Violet replies, looking a little shy. "I'm just gonna do some homework."

"Okay," Emily nods.

Violet goes into the living room and turns on the TV to the nature channel for background noise, and opens up a binder and textbook.

JJ turns to face Emily again.

"Is she eating much?" she asks quietly.

They're far enough from the living room that Violet can't hear them, with the TV on.

Emily shrugs, taking a breath. "Somedays I can get her to…somedays I can't. Mostly she's been living on smoothies, kale chips, and Lucky Charms."

JJ smiles sympathetically, reaching out to squeeze Emily's hand.

"Progress is progress," she tells her.

Emily chuckles and nods.

"Penelope was saying something about a bookstore opening up?"

"Yeah. She wants to take Vi, but…that didn't go so well yesterday."

"I heard," JJ chews her lip. "Penelope felt really bad. She's pretty worried about Vi. We all are."

"She shouldn't feel bad," Emily shakes her head. "Violet isn't upset at her or anything. Just upset at the prospect of leaving the house."

"What does Dr. Haddon say?"

Emily exhales, looking over at Violet, now flipping through pages of a textbook.

"Progress is progress," Emily repeats.

* * *

"Did you finish all of that homework?" Emily asks later that afternoon, as Violet sits bundled up on the couch.

"Mm hmm," Violet hums, wrapped in a quilt and staring at the TV. "Most of it."

"Most?" Emily repeats.

"I didn't finish the history paper," Violet replies, monotone.

"How come?"

Violet shrugs, still staring at the TV.

Emily looks at the school books on the coffee table and lifts the math and science aside to find Violet's history binder. She finds the assignment.

"You love studying World War II," Emily says.

Violet doesn't respond.

"Violet," Emily says.

Violet inhales, glancing at her, and then looks back at the TV.

Emily picks up the remote and turns it off.

"Hey," she says softly, sitting down beside her. "Look at me."

Violet raises only her eyes to meet her mother's, not bothering to turn her head. The annoyance in her face is new to Emily.

"Why don't you want to finish this paper?"

Violet shrugs. "Who cares? One paper isn't going to matter."

"It matters to me," Emily answers.

"Then you write it," Violet replies plainly.

Emily's brow rises. Usually, when Violet has toed a line of respect, she realizes it quickly and apologizes. Emily waits a moment, but no apology comes.

"Violet," Emily says, her tone more firm.

"What?" Violet snaps, turning her head to face her mother.

Emily gives her a stern look. "You know what. You can't let your school work fall any further behind."

"Why? Who cares?"

"I do," Emily shoots back. "And you do, too, even if you think you don't at the moment."

"Actually, I don't," Violet snaps, getting off the couch.

"Come sit down," Emily says calmly, but Violet is already on the stairs.

"No! Leave me alone! Sorry I'm not Emily Prentiss, expert on not letting anything get to me!"

Emily's head moves back slightly as she stares at her daughter, now disappearing up the stairs. Taken aback, she continues to stare at the now empty stairs.

Surprised, she turns her head to stare at the carpet. She hears Violet's door slam — it's not a familiar sound.

Obviously, she and Violet have their little arguments. What teenager doesn't with their mother? But Violet has never gotten that upset, that snappy, or that angry.

She waits a moment, taking a few breaths as she tries to decide how she's going to handle this one.

She chews her fingernails until she realizes she's doing it, and then lets her head drop into her hands.

"Ohhhhhkay," she says under her breath, standing up.

* * *

She knocks twice on Violet's door. She's not expecting a reply, and she doesn't get one. Instead, she slowly opens the door.

Violet never cries in front of other people, if she can help it. She cries in front of her mother, but even then, it's not a common occurrence. It takes a lot to make her cry.

So it makes Emily's lips part and her brow furrow to see Violet huddled on her own bed, knees pulled up to her chest, as tears stream down her face.

"Honey," Emily says softly, immediately moving towards her.

"Don't," Violet cries, wiping her tears away in annoyance. She stands up as Emily reaches the bed, sitting down. She can see how much it hurts her mother to have her deny her touch like that, but her chest is pounding and she feels like she's going to explode.

She starts to pace, chewing her fingernails as tears continue to fall.

"Baby, come here," Emily asks gently.

"No!" Violet cries, both hands coming up to cover her face. "You don't get it! I'm not like you!"

"What are you talking about?" Emily tilts her head.

"I'm not…strong! I can't just get back up and waltz outside like nothing happened, okay? I know you don't understand that because you've never been weak a day in your life, but—"

"Hey," Emily cuts her off, catching one of Violet's wrists and pulling her down towards the bed. "Stop."

Violet stifles a sob and tries to cover her face, as Emily pulls her again, forcing her to sit on the bed. She wraps Violet in her arms, pulling her into her lap like she's a little girl again, and she lets her cry.

Emily hates that sound. Violet's sobs claw at her heart and make her furious that she can't stop them.

Violet hasn't really cried about that day. She's shed tears, she's talked about it a little bit, she's expressed some of her feelings, to her mother and to Dr. Haddon, but she hasn't broken down.

Emily knows that's what it's going to take for Violet to get anywhere. So as much as she hates seeing her daughter in pain, she just holds onto her and lets her cry.

Emily holds Violet's head against her chest, slowly beginning to rock. It's weird; it's been years since Emily held Violet in her lap and rocked her, but somehow the movement feels like it's never left her.

She just waits for Violet to release all of the pressure that's built up in her chest and made her feel like she's been trying to breathe underwater.

"I don't want to feel like this anymore," Violet finally speaks, her voice thick with tears.

"I know, baby," Emily soothes quietly.

"I'm not you," she sobs.

Emily takes Violet's face in her palms, forcing her to meet her mother's eyes. Violet is surprised by the fierceness she finds there, as Emily looks at her.

"You are stronger than you realize, Violet. It may not feel like it right now, but you are. And no, you're not me, but that doesn't mean you're any less strong. I'm not an unbreakable wall, either."

"Since when?" Violet mutters, wiping her sleeve across her eyes.

"I never have been," Emily tells her. "But you know when I feel the weakest?"

Violet looks at her.

"When I can't make your world better."

Violet sniffles, looking away.

"No one expects you to act like a grown up right now," Emily goes on, softly. "You're just a kid, Vi. You're still a baby, in my eyes. You always will be. And even if you don't feel strong, I know that you are. You've been fierce since the day you were born, and you've only shown me more and more, as you've grown, just how strong you are."

Violet manages to get her breathing back to normal and her sobs to stop.

Emily pushes tear-soaked hair from her cheek.

"If it were you, would you be past it by now?" Violet asks, not looking at her.

Emily's heart tightens.

"Baby," she says, her voice full. "You never have to feel like I would think you're weak. You're already the strongest kid I've ever met. You're one of the strongest _people _I've ever met. Nothing will change that. So don't feel like you're on some timeline. And don't ever feel like I'm not right beside you, no matter what. I love you, and I'm so proud of you. I'm proud of you all the time. You're stronger and braver and more amazing than I was at 14. That's how I know you're going to be okay."

Violet looks at her.

"If you're this strong now," Emily tells her. "You're already unstoppable."


	46. Chapter 46

Violet wakes up early. Emily smiles as she pours a cup of coffee.

"Well this is new," she teases. "Up before noon on a Saturday?"

"Don't worry, it won't become a habit," Violet replies, pouring a bowl of cereal.

Emily sits at the island with the newspaper and her coffee. Violet sits down and drags her spoon through the cereal.

She takes a breath, exhaling fully.

"Can we go to Barnes & Noble today?"

Emily looks up, masking the majority of her surprise.

"I don't have anything to read that isn't for school," Violet replies, not looking at her mother. "And I need a biography about Fitzgerald, anyway. For English."

Emily grins. "Yeah, we can do that."

Violet glances up and returns a small smile before going back to her cereal.

* * *

Getting out the door isn't so bad. It's the hallway and there are no real places for someone to hide.

Still, she sticks to her mother's side, almost a full step behind her. Emily makes no mention of it, she just acts as she would for any normal outing.

In the underground parking lot, Violet's eyes dart around. She clenches her fists at her sides until Emily silently wraps one her hands around Violet's clenched fist as they walk.

Violet relaxes only slightly, glad when they reach the car and can get inside.

* * *

Emily drives as Violet looks outside, feeling her absence from the outside world wholly now.

"Grandma called last night," Emily tells her. "Again."

"How's London?" Violet asks.

"She's glad to be in a country where she has a home of her own. But you know her, she likes moving around."

"It has its perks," Violet replies, looking out the window.

"Oh yeah?" Emily chuckles. "That might be the first time you've said that."

Violet rolls her eyes with a grin. "Is not."

Emily's phone rings. She clicks the screen in the car to answer and JJ's voice fills the car.

"What are you two up to today? Wait — am I on speakerphone? Are you guys in the car?" she can't hide the happiness in her voice.

"We are," Emily replies, glancing at Violet with a smile. "Barnes & Noble is calling."

"I think they call Violet once a week, don't they?" JJ teases.

"They're hard to ignore," Violet replies.

"I bet," JJ laughs. "Well what are you guys doing tonight? Will's here for the weekend and we were thinking of throwing together a last-minute get-together."

"You sure you want to sacrifice your precious _alone _time," Emily grins.

Violet gives her a disgusted look and Emily laughs.

"It was actually his idea," JJ says. "He hasn't seen any of you guys since Christmas."

Emily looks at Violet, who chews her lip, then shrugs.

"Can I get back to you?"

"Of course," JJ replies.

After Emily hangs up she looks at Violet.

"You up for it?"

Violet chews her lip and glances at her mother, feeling her watching her. She stops chewing.

"Yeah," she says suddenly, with no hint of doubt.

"Yeah?" Emily replies.

Violet nods. "We should go. I like Will."

"Me too," Emily grins.

"Just…don't make a big deal of it, okay?" Violet asks.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want everyone being all, 'Oh Violet! You left the house! Amazing!'"

"Honey, they won't be patronizing," Emily assures her.

"No, I know," Violet shakes her head. "I just mean I don't want it to be a topic of conversation."

"They'll just be glad to see you," Emily promises.

Violet gives her a look and then takes to looking out the window again.

She knows the team by now. Obviously they aren't patronizing or anything of the sort, but they will say something about it. And it's not a bad thing.

She's just trying to ignore the situation altogether. Which, she knows, isn't entirely healthy either.

Violet notices that they've missed the turn for the mall.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

Emily just gives her a warm smile. "You'll see."

Violet stares outside, starting to feel sick.

"Mom. No," she says, her body beginning to stiffen.

"I'm right here," Emily assures her.

"I don't want to go," Violet replies, urgency in her voice. "Please!"

"Vi, it's important for you to concur your fear," Emily says, with a look that's more Grandma than Mom.

Violet stares at her, surprised and a little hurt.

"I _am_," she retorts. "At least I'm trying to."

"And this will help," Emily adds.

Violet focuses on breathing so her heart might stop pounding.

"I don't want to," she repeats, her voice softening around the pulsating fear.

They pass a small sign that says Ross Trail.

Violet wonders what her mother is doing. This isn't like her at all, to throw her into her own fear like this.

Emily parks the car outside the hangar.

"I'm not doing this," Violet says angrily.

"Yes. You are," Emily replies, her face hard and her eyes stern.

Violet stares at her, shock filling her eyes.

Emily gets out of the vehicle. Violet doesn't move.

Emily walks around to the passenger side and opens Violet's door.

"Come on," she says.

"No," Violet refuses.

"Violet. Let's go," Emily says sternly.

Violet stares at her, feeling like she doesn't even know her mother right now.

"You have to get over this," Emily demands.

She unbuckles Violet's seatbelt and forces her from the vehicle.

Violet doesn't even know what to say. She's stunned into silence as her mother pulls her towards the hangar door.

Suddenly, it opens.

Violet feels ice cover her heart, making it harder for it to beat. Teo's face fills her vision.

Finally, her mother does something typical of herself. She pushes Violet behind her and pulls out her gun.

Violet didn't even realize that she'd brought it with her.

"I knew you'd be back," Teo sneers.

"Clever boy," Emily retorts, her gun pointed at him.

Suddenly, someone grabs Violet, covering her mouth and wrapping a strong arm around her chest.

"Silenzioso," Gustavo's deep voice drowns her ear.

Violet tries to scream but his hand is smothering her. She tries to kick but her legs aren't working.

She hears a gunshot and sees Teo fall to the ground, a perfect shot between his eyes beginning to leak dark blood.

Her mother turns to face Violet and Gustavo.

"Let her go," Emily demands in Italian.

"Not this time," Gustavo sneers.

He lifts his arm, pointing a gun at Emily.

A shot deafens Violet and she falls to the ground. She's stunned; she can't move properly. She tries to get up but her head is too heavy.

"Violet," she hears a familiar soothing voice. "Baby, it's okay."

She looks up to see her mother hovering above her.

Her eyes are full of fear and pain, and her face doesn't match her voice. Her face is terrified but her voice is calm and soothing.

"Violet, it's alright. It's okay, baby, I'm right here."

Violet frowns up at her mother, tears starting to blur her.

"Why did you bring me here?" she sobs.

She sees her mother's face blur completely, so she's only a smear of colours.

"Violet," she says, and Violet feels a hand touch her face, pushing sweaty hair from her forehead. "It's okay. You're okay."

Suddenly the hard ground gives out beneath her and she feels only soft warmth.

Still trying to get up, she suddenly feels more in control of her body. She tries to move away from her mother, as much as she needs her right now.

"Why did you make me come back?" she sobs.

"You're safe, baby," her mother soothes.

Suddenly, Violet's eyes open onto a different scene. She's in her mother's bed, and Emily is above her, smoothing her hair and wiping tears from her cheeks. She's not dressed to go out, she's wearing an old Yale t-shirt and she's not wearing any makeup anymore.

_It was a dream_, Violet realizes, as she struggles to breathe.

Full realization covers her like a quilt, and she looks up at her mother's worried face.

"You're safe," Emily repeats.

Violet breathes, staring at her. When Emily finally sees that Violet is awake and seeing her, she pulls her towards her, wrapping her in her arms and soothing her quietly.

"You're safe."


	47. Chapter 47

"Honey, I would never," Emily tells Violet, her eyes full of worry.

"I know," Violet mutters, shaking her head tightly and looking away, at the carpet. "It just freaked me out. I'll be fine."

"You're shaking," Emily points out, now facing Violet as they lie in bed.

Violet takes a breath and exhales, trying to fully calm down.

Emily presses a kiss against her forehead, wishing that it was like when Violet was a baby and just the calm, soothing presence of her mother could relax her.

* * *

Later that day Violet tries to work on homework but her entire body is on alert. She feels the effects of fear and she can't focus on anything.

Emily, working on her laptop, takes furtive glances at Violet. She knows she's not actually doing her homework. She knows Violet's mind is going to be untameable all day.

"Hey, " she says, closing her laptop.

Violet glances over, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"Play chess with me," Emily grins, standing up and walking towards the couch.

Violet raises her brow doubtfully. "You hate chess."

"I…dislike chess," Emily rephrases, taking Violet's hands in her own and pulling her to her feet. "Because I'm not amazing at it. I need practice."

"You're a terrible actress," Violet raises an eyebrow as her mother wraps an arm around her.

"Thank god I didn't go in theatre," Emily teases and kisses Violet's temple.

They reach the chessboard, sitting beside a window overlooking the park next to their building. It's another plus, really, Emily thinks. Violet will have to look outside; _see _outside.

Violet sits in her usual seat, curling one leg underneath her and resting her chin on her other knee.

"Daughters first," Emily says formally, gesturing with her palm raised.

"You're such a nerd," Violet shakes her head, not hiding a small grin.

"But you still think I'm kind of cool, right?" Emily asks, her nose wrinkled.

Violet gives her a dubious look. Emily laughs.

"Yes, I do," Violet replies with an exhale. "No one else's mom carries a gun and can beat the crap out of full-grown men."

"Yes," Emily whispers, pumping one fist.

Violet shakes her head as she smiles, moving her piece.

Emily takes a mental photograph of that smile and starts to focus on the game.

The phone rings halfway through the game.

"Hello?" Emily answers, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Well you don't sound very welcoming," comes Penelope's voice.

"My child is murdering me at chess," Emily explains.

"Well obviously," Penelope replies knowingly. "Were you expecting a different outcome?"

Emily grins, shaking her head. "What's up, Garcia?"

"JJ and I are nearby," Penelope replies. "And we happen to be walking into a certain coffee shop that has s'more lattes."

"Shut. Up," Violet hisses, hearing Penelope.

"I know you can't resist them!" Penelope calls back; Emily holds the phone away from her ear. "Also, yes, this is us inviting ourselves over."

"Sounds good," Emily smiles. "We'd love to see you guys."

"See you soon, then," Penelope replies happily.

Emily hangs up, glaring at the board.

Finally, she spots a move.

"Nice one," Violet half-smiles.

"Looks like I haven't lost all of It yet," Emily replies.

"It?"

"Yeah. Y'know, It. The Stuff. The X factor. What makes me awesome," Emily explains.

"Oh, of course," Violet replies, as though this is obvious. She rolls her eyes.

"How's Matthew?" Emily asks, as Violet considers the board.

"Good," Violet exhales. "Apparently made a new friend at school."

"Really?" Emily raises an eyebrow, surprised. "I thought he was staunchly against fraternizing with anyone but you."

"Ha ha," Violet replies dryly. "He met him in drama class."

"Ah," Emily nods. "A fellow thespian?"

"Yeah. Who happens to be quote 'hot as shit,'" Violet replies.

Emily makes a face.

"Yeah I don't like the phrase either," she shakes her head.

"Is he gay? Or is Matthew crushing on a straight guy again?" Emily asks knowingly.

"He's gay," Violet replies. "But Matthew still hopes that Spencer will one day explore his position on the gender spectrum."

"Kid better keep dreaming'," Emily replies, making a move. "Besides, JJ said that he's been texting someone lately. Usually with a grin on his face."

"Aw, really?" Violet says. "Good. I like that he's picky, but I want him to find someone. He'll really make the best boyfriend once he finds a fellow geek to love."

"We are rare, it seems," Emily replies.

"Or just in hiding," Violet answers. "Ignoring the normal people and choosing to hang out with ourselves."

"Hey, we're normal," Emily says, palms raised.

"I don't really know what we are," Violet replies with a raised brow, moving a piece. "Checkmate."

"Son of a b-"

The buzzer sounds and Violet grins as her mother holds back her final word.

Emily looks at her and can't help but smile.

"Well done, baby," she praises. "You are amazing, as always."

Violet blushes slightly, unfolding her legs so she can stand up.

She goes over and answers the intercom.

"Two lovely ladies to see the even lovelier Prentiss's," comes Penelope's voice.

Violet smiles and buzzes them in.

Emily looks down at her old jeans and plain t-shirt.

"I think this is the first time they'll see me not wearing work clothes," she muses, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "I might scare them."

Violet holds her arms out, gesturing at her own outfit. "And what are we supposed to say about this?" she asks, chewing on a blueberry from the bowl on the island.

Emily nods at Violet's wildly patterned leggings and tank top with a skeleton kissing a girl with long red hair.

"I think we look great," Emily replies, brow raised and palms raised.

Violet grins and goes to sit at the island as a knock sounds. Emily answers the door.

"Well hello, Ms Prentiss," Penelope smiles, greeting Emily with a hug.

"Hey," Emily smiles, greeting them both and ushering them inside. "How are you guys doing?"

"I don't get to say this very often, but I am actually feeling rested," Penelope replies, sliding off her jacket and letting Emily take it from her.

"We had yesterday _and _today off," JJ explains, giving Emily her own jacket.

"Ah, yes," Emily nods. "You get to catch up with your old friend, Sleep."

"Ugh, exactly," Penelope replies, before walking out of the atrium area and seeing Violet at the island. "And hello, Miss Violette! How are you?"

Violet stands up to hug Penelope.

"Good," she grins shyly. "How are you?"

"Fabulous," Penelope winks. "I come bearing gifts."

She lifts a coffee cup from the cardboard tray and holds it out.

"You," Violet shakes her head, taking the cup. "Are amazing. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Penelope smiles.

"Hey you," JJ grins, giving Violet a hug. "Penelope tells me we're supposed to limit your intake of these lattes."

"Oh my god, please never do that," Violet widens her eyes, after taking a sip. "I don't think I could go on."

The others chuckle.

"Actually, I kind of agree," JJ replies. She holds up her own cup, "I had to try it for myself and…wow."

"Now you're a lifer," Emily warns.

"Have you tried this?" JJ asks, brow furrowed.

"Yes," Emily sighs. "Who do you think got her onto drinking coffee before her age even had two digits?"

"Well, part of that was because you were living in places with fancy coffee everywhere," Penelope points out.

"Yeah, coffee is basically water in France and Italy," Violet nods. "Everyone drinks it. _Everyone_."

"She never had a chance," Emily says wistfully, running a hand over Violet's dark hair.

Her friends chuckle as they all sit down around the island.

"So how did the chess match go?" JJ asks, raising her brow at Emily as though she already knows.

"I was annihilated," Emily replies, monotone.

"You were not," Violet tilts her head.

Emily raises her brow at her friends as though Violet's lying.

"Gideon's gonna need a game with you soon," JJ says. "He's taking a new position, in DC."

"Really?" Emily says, surprised.

"Yep," Penelope sighs sadly. "He's leaving us."

"When?" Violet asks. She's always liked Gideon.

"Two weeks," JJ answers. "We're having a going-away party for him next Saturday."

"It'll work out perfectly," Penelope grins at Violet. "We can have our date at the book store and then head over to Hotch's house for the party."

Violet smiles, small, but no one misses the look of discomfort.

Nor the look of relief when Violet's phone starts to ring on the island in front of them.

Seeing Matthew's face appear on the screen, Violet picks it up and offers an apologetic smile.

"I'll be right back," she tells them, and goes upstairs.

"Any progress on that front?" JJ asks, as the three of them watch Violet hurry up the stairs, talking to Matthew.

"The small amount that may have been made was shattered this morning," Emily replies, dejected.

"What happened?" Penelope demands with concern, her hand already on Emily's arm.

Emily relays the story of Violet's dream as her friends look at her with worry and regret.

"I'm sorry," JJ says. "That's awful. I can't even imagine how she must be feeling on a daily basis, let alone after having a dream like that."

"Poor girl," Penelope says, her brow furrowed as she glances up the stairs.

"She was shaking," Emily says, remembering the morning. "Just vibrating in my arms. That's why we were playing chess. I saw her sitting there with her homework and I knew that she couldn't stay focused on anything, so I just went with the one thing I knew would put her mind somewhere else."

"That's great," JJ assures her, seeing the look on Emily's face. "You got her mind off it. She's smiling again, and talking. She's come a long way, even if it doesn't always feel like it."

Penelope nods in agreement.

"I just hate that she had a dream like that at all, and I really hate that I was such an asshole in it," Emily shakes her head.

"She knows you would never do that," Penelope replies.

"Yeah, I just…" Emily exhales. "The way she looked at me when she finally opened her eyes…. It was like fear and…disappointment. Like she was so mad at me."

"It won't stay," Penelope says gently. "I know this is totally different, but I used to have these dreams about my parents after they died, where they would say or do these horrible things. Like I dreamed once that my father was angry with me for being gone that night. That I should have been home. I felt terrible when I woke up. I cried all day, it felt so real. But…it passes. You know it's not real. And in Vi's case, she has you here to show her that."

"She's obviously not upset with you now," JJ points out.

"Yeah," Emily nods in agreement.

She takes another breath, realizing how tired she is.

"You look exhausted, Em," Penelope says. "Why don't you let JJ and me take over for a few hours?"

"No, it's okay," Emily shakes her head. "I-"

"I wasn't actually asking," Penelope interrupts her.

"Get up there, missy," JJ nods towards the stairs. "We're all over it."

Emily looks at them as they give her stern looks and after a moment she exhales.

"Alright," she nods. "Thanks you guys."

"Don't mention it," JJ grins.

"Now get some sleep," Penelope orders.

Emily grins tiredly and heads up the stairs. They hear her bedroom door close and a moment later Violet scurries downstairs.

"Where's Mom?"

"Taking a little siesta," Penelope replies, reaching into her large bag and pulling out a box. "And _we_…are going to tackle this beast."

She holds up a puzzle of a world map, with 1,000 pieces.

Violet's eyes widen as she stares at the puzzle and her mouth opens.

"Where did you find this?" she asks, staring.

"This nerdy store where I go once a week to see if they have anything new," Penelope grins.

JJ starts moving stuff off the island.

"Alright ladies," she says, patting the cleared top. "Let's do this."


	48. Chapter 48

"Mom?" Violet calls from the bathroom.

She waits what she feels is a reasonable amount of time and then sticks her wet-haired head out into the hall.

"MOM?"

Emily appears at the bottom of the stairs, the phone to her ear.

"Please tell you're unscathed, otherwise I'm hiding all razors from you," she says, giving Violet a knowing look.

"Actually I haven't shaved my legs in days," Violet replies.

"Nice," Emily replies dryly.

"I do, however, need more moisturizer," Violet tells her.

Emily's response is a slight raise of her brow.

"Well," Emily replies carefully. "I guess we'd better go get some."

Violet freezes, her lips parted, as she looks away from her mother and stares at the carpet.

When she looks back at her, Emily just gives her a calm smile and goes back to talking on the phone.

Surprised, Violet steps back into the bathroom. She sits on the edge of the bathtub, absently pulling her long hair from hanging down her back and holds the thick ponytail near her shoulder.

She takes a breath, exhaling as she turns her head and looks at herself.

She stares into her dark-green eyes for a moment. She starts to chew her cheek.

_Ugh,_ she thinks to herself. _Is that what I look like when I chew my cheek?_

She stops and stands up. She walks to the vanity and looks at herself for a moment, willing herself to be strong.

She takes another breath and then weaves her damp hair into a loose French braid.

"If we go soon, we'll beat rush hour," Emily says, appearing in Violet's doorway.

Violet looks back at her from standing in her closet, perusing clothes.

"Okay," she replies quietly.

She turns back to her clothes, her arms crossing absently so she's hugging herself.

Emily wanders over and runs a palm over Violet's cheek.

"Everything will be fine," she tells Violet, firmness making its way into her soothing tone.

Violet presses her lips together and focuses on her mother's almost-black eyes.

Emily's brow raises slightly, telling Violet to respond.

Violet obeys and offers only a slight nod.

Emily kisses her forehead and then reaches over, grabbing a leather jacket of Violet's.

"I'm stealing this," she says, walking away as she slides her arms into it.

"Hey," Violet frowns, watching her mother turn to grin at her before disappearing from the room. "Maybe I wanted to wear that!"

She yells it but her mother's only response is an amused chuckle. Her calm demeanor has more of an effect on Violet than she's letting on - without it, Violet's not sure she'd be getting dressed to leave at all.

She turns back to her closet and yanks out a pair of jeans and a shirt before shucking off her robe and getting dressed.

* * *

"I need coffee," Emily says, as she makes sure her purse holds everything she needs. "Good coffee, brewed by a barista with hands of heaven."

"Romanticizing coffee makes you sound like a pervert," Violet murmurs, sliding a jacket on.

Emily just laughs, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

She heads for the front door and turns to look at Violet.

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't rush her. She simply gives her a look that says, "Let's go," and "Take your time," at the same time.

Violet takes another breath to try and pop the bubble that's growing in her chest, making her feel anxious.

Then she exhales and heads for the door.

* * *

She gets into the car more quickly than usual, looking immediately to the backseat. She's always had this ridiculous fear of someone being there. It's heightened due to recent events.

Emily gets in and locks the doors. Violet is grateful as she buckles her seat belt.

"Now let's set out some parameters for this shopping trip," Emily says, giving Violet a knowing look.

"Are you a tour guide for Sephora?" Violet frowns.

"I'm a benefactor of your wealth," Emily responds, raising an eyebrow. "And your love shopping forces me to shove money lessons down your throat."

"Oh, please," Violet rolls her eyes, absently pulling her sleeves down over her hands as she looks around the parking garage. "I'm not a moron. I wouldn't shop myself into bankruptcy."

Emily gives her a look that makes Violet chuckle softly as she drives out of the parking garage.

Being outside the safe walls of their home hits Violet in the chest and a breath stutters in her lungs.

Emily silently reaches over and holds her hand.

"Regardless of your promises not to bankrupt us," she says, one thumb running over the smooth skin of Violet's hand. "Let's try not to buy everything we see today."

"I only need moisturizer," Violet replies, trying, futilely, to make her voice sound smooth and calm.

"And last time you only needed hair serum and you came home with five things."

"You don't pass up a deal on Origins, Mother," Violet replies, looking at her sternly.

"Ohhhh my god," Emily sighs, shaking her head. "How do I go back in time and take back all of the days we spent shopping?"

"I'm pretty sure my fashion sense and dedication to personal hygiene are woven in my soul," Violet replies, her palm pressed to her chest.

Emily chuckles.

Violet's grateful for the conversation to try and distract her but she's still anxious and she can feel her heart beating hard.

Emily glances at her as she drives and gives her hand a squeeze.

"You're okay," she assures her daughter. "I've got you."


End file.
